Turning Tables
by EmeraldGrey22
Summary: A single choice can re-write history. What happens when Kiara chooses Mr. Mellark instead of Mr. Everdeen? This is the story of a grey-eyed seamboy and a blonde bakergirl. The story of hearty hazel-nut bread and of meaningful glances across the yard. Character switch. Not gender-bend. AU. Everlark
1. Prologue

**Hello lovely readers! :) This is my first THG story so I am really excited as I've only ever written for PJO before :D This is a multi-chapter fic and I've already written ahead! :D I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

**The cover has been stolen from the Facebook page 'The Hunger Games Quotes: Here's some advice, stay alive.' All rights due. **

**Disclaimer: I don't even know why we do this because basically the word fanfiction insinuates that I do not own the Hunger Games. I'm gonna do it anyways since everybody else does it :D**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

__Prologue

_All I know, this morning when I woke_

_Is I know something now, know something now, I didn't before _

_And all I've seen since eighteen hours ago_

_Is green eyes and freckles and your smile_

_At the back of my mind, making me feel like_

_I just want to know you better, know you better, know you better now._

* * *

_The story can start with a 'once upon a time' or a salutation or the meticulous description of one's surroundings. But it always begins with a turning point. The single moment the world stands still and everything truly begins. The story can start in a hundred different ways._

_This story starts in only two._

* * *

Five year old Katniss Mellark stood on the balls of her feet, jumping up and down impatiently. Her frilly little red dress flicked about her petite frame and her blue eyes were imploringly large as she looked up at her mother. Her mommy was taking far too much time to deal with the customer at the bakery for her liking. The elderly customer had barely exited the rickety door that Katniss hurried to her mother, her blonde plaits swishing idly from both sides of her head, and eagerly tugged on her mother's dress.

"Come on, mommy" she cried impatiently, pulling the best pout-y face that she could manage.

Kiara Mellark laughed as she saw her daughter's much-too-forced pout and patted her daughter's hair affectionately. Today happened to be Katniss's first day of kindergarten and to say that Katniss was excited was to be an understatement. Kiara was a witness to the persistent, excited banter of her five year old for a weak and it was time that the esteemed day finally arrive.

"We're going, sweetie." She replied to her overly keen daughter tugging on one of Katniss's braids teasingly.

She slid a spare bill into the cash register and grabbed a warm and fresh blueberry cupcake that her husband had just taken out from the oven. Kiara leaned to her daughter's eye-level slipped the brown paper bag containing a solitary cupcake into her hands. Katniss peaked inside and her eyes immediately widened. Her face broke into a toothless grin. It was seldom that Katniss was allowed cupcakes. On normal days they couldn't afford to even spare a single for their only daughter.

"A special something for a special girl's special day." Kiara said with a small wink.

Katniss was almost skipping her way across the town square in the direction of the school. She held her mother's hand tugging her along and chatting non-stop on how she wanted to make so many new friends but what if people didn't want to be her friend? Kiara spent most of the short way trying to calm her daughter down and the rest to assure her that in the issue concerning friends, Katniss would have no trouble at all. Nevertheless when both the mother-daughter reached the school's worn out building it seemed none of Kiara's words had any effect on Katniss.

The small building was streaming with people raging from little kids to high-school students soon to join the mines. Kiara saw the little excited faces of over eager children impatiently waiting for their first day at school contrast heavily with the forlorn faces that of the elder students. She reminisced on her own school days and how she despised the dragged history lessons where they were forced to recount the glory of the Capitol. Almost absently she fingered Katniss's small braids in her hands, not wishing to let go of her daughter just yet.

All of a sudden it seemed that Katniss's excitement had given way to anxiety as she clutched onto her mother's hand more securely and looked around fear reflected plainly in her wide blue eyes. Kiara rubbed small soothing circles on the back of Katniss's little hand and the slight action seemed to calm her down. It was a gesture that had worked since she was a mere month old. Kiara's eyes inspected the school premises and her eyes landed on the little yet lanky figure of a small but recognizable boy. He reminded Kiara so much of his father that she had trouble training her eyes off of him.

"See that boy over there, sweetie?" she asked Katniss pointing in the direction where a lone Peeta Everdeen stood glancing around nervously, yet with a confident stance.

Katniss squinted, "Which one?"

"Over there" Kiara pointed again "the one with the black hair. You see him? His father wanted to marry me back in our time."

Katniss now had her eyes trained directly on the raven-haired and grey-eyed boy and frowned. The boy had a round face filled with baby fat and large eyes that were half obscured by the unruly tangle of dark hair. His skin was an odd shade of olive and he appeared gangly for his age. He wore a stiff pallid shirt that looked like it had seen better days. His tiny sneakers looked as frayed as his clothes and his face held an inexplicable apprehension.

"He's a seam kid." She said as a matter of fact. "His father's a coal miner, ain't he?" she felt confused. Why would a coal miner want to marry her merchant mother?

"Isn't he." Kiara corrected her daughter off offhandedly, "Yes, he was a miner. But he was one of the nicest men I knew."

Her face took on a wistful expression as she spoke and reflected on the past. She still wished they could talk like they used to and still spend time together. More often than not she had found nostalgia creeping up upon her whenever she would pass the meadow or observe the neat files of miners as they marched to their destination early in the morning. She had made her choice but it didn't mean that she wouldn't regret these small things that the choice entitled. Vaguely she thought of neatly-shot squirrels and mid-spring Katniss flowers.

_The meadow looked particularly green that day as Kiara sat leaning against the elderly willow. A slight breeze gently caressed her face and blew hair in front of her eyes. From behind her she could hear the intermingled chirping of sparrows and Mockingjays. She ran a hand along the plush grass and the blades felt velvety beneath her palms. She lightly hummed under her breath as she twirled long strands of grass between her fingers._

_Deep in the meadow._

_Under the willow._

_It felt pleasant to be away from the apothecary for even a short while and the weather added to her already uplifted mood. A slight disturbance in the grass caused her to turn around and she spotted Neil Everdeen making his way across the meadow, his game bag packed and full, his face delighted. He stopped beside her and sat down murmuring a cheery greeting. She didn't know how but somehow she had managed to develop a deep understanding with this peculiar hunter and seam boy._

_"Someone looks plenty happy today." She said. _

_He grinned widely. "You could say that. Good haul, good weather, what more can you ask?"_

_His smile was infectious and she soon found the corners of her lips curling up involuntarily. His face suddenly lit up._

_"Oh, I got something for you." He told her while he rummaged inside a satchel he carried over his left shoulders. His hand came out and clasped in its grip was a bundle of bright, sunshine yellow flowers. Katniss flowers._

_"Found these on the way. Lovely flowers for a lovely lady."_

"Did you tell him no?" Katniss asked innocently, her wide blue eyes still trained on the seam boy that stood unaccompanied at the school's entrance.

Kiara shrugged, "Well, partially. He knew that your daddy was the one for me." She smiled down at her daughter and readjusted the grip on her hand. Sometimes Kiara would wonder, but then she would look at her little angel and she would know that she made the right choice.

"He looks lonely, doesn't he mommy?" Katniss addressed her mother. She looked at the little boy with worry in her face and pity in her eyes. Didn't he have a mommy to drop him off to school?

Kiara could only smile sadly. Neil Everdeen would be at the mines right now, coughing in the smoke and digging through the dark. And as much as she hated it she knew that Risa would never take the time to drop her son off to school. Kiara sighed sadly. Risa had changed drastically, her mood had worsened and her patience had worn thin. She hadn't been made for the harsh life and she had never been able to forget that she was Neil's second choice.

"Yes he does." Kiara looked at the mammoth clock mounted atop the school building. "Come one, sweetie. We wouldn't want to be late."

She didn't know why but throughout the rest of the day little Katniss's eyes continued to subconsciously follow the seam boy. She ate lunch with the mayor's daughter and made a drawing with the butcher's obnoxious son. But she couldn't summon the confidence to go over and sit by the quiet and shy boy who made the tallest building with a worn set of legos. It was at the assembly when the little boy climbed up the stool and sung the national anthem of Panem in a high, clear voice that Katniss suddenly knew. At that moment she swore that every bird outside the window fell deadly silent and the heavens dropped down its ears to listen. She knew the boy was special in more than one way.

* * *

The rain fell in currents and sheets as he hobbled his way across the District. Water splashed pathetically beneath his feet and accumulated inside his tattered shoes. His posture was slumped as he clutched onto pieces of little clothing he had failed to sell. He walked blindly yet desperately. Every time he even stopped to catch his breath, his sister's delicate, pale face would flash across his eyes. He would see her sunken eyes, her hollow cheek bones and her parched lips and would force himself to take another step forward. His stomach ached harshly from hunger pangs and his bony hands shook from the little strength that they had had left. But he didn't stop. He couldn't stop.

He cried out in desperation but his voice was lost over the torrent of rain. His sister's tiny baby clothes fell from his grasp and fell to the ground drenched in rain and muck. His legs almost gave out beneath him as he managed his way to the bakery that had lost its color in the storm. The fresh aroma of bread beckoned him forward and taunted him at the same time. What he wouldn't have given to have a small loaf, to see the color return to Prim's face, to see her healthy and growing, to see her eyes light up in happiness and to see her laugh once more. The lid of the trash can rattled as he pawned through the inside. Maybe he could find some burnt bread or some stale cookies that were no longer wanted. He rummaged through but his pale hands failed to conjure up something substantial, _anything_ substantial.

He gave up his search and the lid crashed to his feet, rolling around loudly before coming to a stop. It was then that he slumped against the nearby apple tree and slid to the muddy ground. Hot, fresh tears mingled with the cold drops of rain that spattered against his face. He shakily held up his hands to his face and buried his head in them. The raw sense of failure finally hit him, with enough force that it left him struggling to breath. He had failed his father. He had failed Prim.

At that moment Peeta finally gave up.

Black spots danced before his eyes and his vision blanched. The pain in his stomach seemed only to intensify and the cold splatter of rain made his skin numb. Was this how it felt to die? Or was this just the anguish of lost hopes and abandoned expectations. He was at least glad that his father's death was sudden, as quick and painless as a bullet to the heart. Subconsciously he wished that someone would find Prim. That there was still a hint of good left in this world.

Just as he was about to fade out an angel appeared in front of his vision. An angel? No, a girl with soft honey-gold hair and angelic blue eyes. To him she seemed to glow like she was emanating waves of gold. A hood was draped over her head and she carried a bundle to her chest. Her lips moved but he couldn't manage to hear her. He wanted to hear her voice. Maybe he could tell her to take care of Prim. She leaned at his eye-level directly before of him and he could've sworn that she blazed a golden aura. Suddenly he felt a small bundle being placed in his arms. It felt soft and warm against his skin.

Bread.

He looked up sharply and fading grey eyes met the striking blue.

"Take it."

She ran back to the bakery but he felt that she had left her misty glow behind. As he clutched the bread to his chest and somehow managed to stand up, for the first time in five weeks Peeta felt a spark of hope ignite inside him.

"_This is a Katniss flower, Pete. These petals here are usually orange in summer but manage to go this vivid yellow in spring." His father played with the short spiky stem of the flower. "The shoot is usually squat but flexible but beware of these little spikes, they can cause horrible itching, I'll tell you Pete. They make fine salad dressing, quite fine with some parsnips and a hint of capsicum and there we have it!" he handed Peeta the flower who twirled it idly around his fingers closely examining the delicate petals. "I used to take a whole bundle every other week for the baker's wife, back in the day. She loved 'em, I'll tell you"_

A bell went off in his head and all of a sudden the pieces came together. He knew how he would do it, he knew how he would same them, he knew how he'd tip the scales in his favor. Suddenly he could see a small spot of illumination midst the darkness.

He saw her the next day, in school. He saw her smiling with the mayor's daughter. He saw her blond haired tied together in an intricate braid and saw her sapphire eyes sparkle. He could see the pure _good_ that radiated from her personality and he wondered, slightly amazed how he had never seen her before. When their eyes connected over the school yard, he bent down picked up a single yellow dandelion in full bloom and slid it teasingly behind his sister's ear. At the same instant he saw two beautiful girls smile.

* * *

_This is a story of a girl and a boy. A baker and a hunter. This is the story of hearty hazelnut bread and of meaningful glances across the yard. _

* * *

**And that ends our prologue :D Hope you like it!**

**Constructive criticism is wanted and appreciated! Flames will be used to toast marshmallows. But I need feedback guys!**

**And now you all must be wondering aren't Katniss plants ugly root tubers? Yes, yes they are. But for this story let us pretend that they are not. **

**On a side note I just loved writing from switched point of views. Its so much fun-er! (yes I am aware that this is not a word) and so riveting!**

**The song at the beginning is 'Everything has changed' by Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran. (omg like I love this song) **

**Sneak peak from Chapter One!:**

He quirked an eyebrow in Gale's direction. "You hitting on my girl again, Hawthorne?"

**Hehe **

**Review for continuation of story! :)**

**~EG **


	2. Chapter 1

**Hello people! :D Since I got a great response from the prologue I decided to update really early yayyy :D **

**I really really hope you people like this chapter because I am really proud of it :') **

**Disclaimer: I will own the Hunger Games when Haymitch Abernathy stop drinking. **

* * *

Chapter One

Peeta

_Its never easy to be chosen_

_Never easy to be called_

_Standing on the front line_

_When the bombs start to fall _

_I can see the heavens _

_But I still hear the flames _

_Calling out my name_

* * *

His light tread was almost soundless as he crept his way through the thicket of pines in pursuit of the rather plump doe. The doe stopped in her tracks to munch at the small chunk of shrubbery and he saw it as his chance. Swiftly he pulled out a sharp elongated arrow from the sheath that hung from his back and notched it against his bow. He closed his left eye, curling his fingers even tighter against supple wood as he pulled the arrow towards him until his right hand lightly brushed his jaw. The string tickled his nose and his vision tunneled on the doe. _Pull, inhale, release and exhale._

He breathed in slowly, gradually increasing the tension in the string. His fingers were seconds away from releasing the arrow when he heard the voice.

"What are you gonna' do with that, Pete?"

He let the arrow fly but it was already too late. Alarmed, the doe trotted off and his arrow embedded itself neatly on the thick bark of the pine.

"Damn it, Hawthorne." He cursed and turned around promptly to face his grinning jerk of a best friend. "I swear if you try that one more time, I'll have your head stuck in the snare line."

Gale only let out a bark of laughter knowing clearly who the superior hunter was when it came to snares. He walked over to the lofty tree, neatly plucked the arrow from its trunk and threw it back to Peeta.

"Sure Pete, maybe I'll take you up on that offer one day." He said "Besides I meant what I said, it's reaping today. There is no way we could carry that thing to the hob with all the Peacekeepers crawling around."

Peeta was lost in his hunt and for some blissful minutes the reaping had escaped his mind but just like that the bomb had resumed its insistent ticking over his head. He could ignore the fact or laugh it off but it couldn't take back his twenty-two or Gale's fort-three little chits of stiff white paper that would carry their names. Silently they made a mutual consensus to stray far from the topic of the impending reaping until it was actually time.

By the time Peeta and Gale took their customary spot overlooking the District, Peeta carried two squirrels and a wild goose. Gale hauled two wild turkeys and an overflowing bag of strawberries for a certain daughter of the mayor. Peeta had persistently elbowed Gale teasingly over this obvious fact but Gale had studiously decided to ignore him. The site of the whole District in one glance was Peeta's favorite although he managed to admire it every day, it seemed like, along with hunting, it was the one thing that he would never get tired off. He saw the empty pathways that would usually hold neat files of miners heading for work and the habitual hustle bustle that could be seen in the hob and the Merchant Square was lacking. He sighed as he skinned the goose. He could try to ignore it but the games followed you everywhere.

Peeta had just properly skinned and gutted his kills when Gale pulled out a little fresh loaf of bread from the inside of his jacket. It was real bakery bread, not flat and dense like the one made from rations. Peeta was pleasantly surprised and the sight of bread reminded him of the fact that he hadn't eaten anything since dinner the night before.

"Already visited the bakery?" he asked Gale as he accepted half the loaf

Gale gave him a look that spoke clearly of an _'obviously'_ and took a large mouthful of bread. "Katniss was at the counter. She was clearly disappointed that it wasn't you." Gale spoke with his mouth full but Peeta managed to catch his speech, none the same.

He quirked an eyebrow in Gale's direction. "You hitting on my girl again, Hawthorne?"

Gale shrugged, "Barely. She threatened to dump the frosting over my head."

Peeta laughed loudly. His voice carried through the forest and he could hear a few mockingjays echoing the sound. Even when she wasn't there that girl could manage to make him laugh. His mind conjured up a ridiculous picture of Katniss standing over a sticky, yellow Gale- a bowl raised in her hands. He was still smiling when he remembered.

"Prim left us cheese."

Peeta pulled out a wad of cheese Prim had left on the table in the morning, neatly covered and wrapped to protect it from rats and the ugly stray cat. He spread it on his piece of bread along with some squashed blueberries. Before he could finish Gale instantly snatched the cheese out of his hands.

He emitted a low whistle, "Thank you, Prim."

The rest of time was spent eating their small treats and amongst their favorite activity in reaping days- imitating the Capitol accents. Peeta had no idea where the citizens had managed to acquire such humorous accents, nor did he have any desire to find out. He threw a blueberry in Gale's direction "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds-"

The berry made a perfect arch towards him and Gale caught the berry flawlessly between his teeth "-be _ever_ in your favor" he imitated with a wide grin. Joking about it made the situation less frightening and the Capitol accent was so affected, almost anything said sounded comical.

The two of them sat there a little while longer; relishing the time spent relaxing rather than feeding their families. Peeta observed Gale as he skinned his turkey. The pair looked so alike they were often mistaken for brothers with their identical coal hair, seam grey eyes and olive skin. But they weren't related by a long shot.

The trek back to the District wasn't lengthy and Peeta could almost feel the good mood dissipating as they approached it. All around the District he spotted long faces, hushed conversations filled heavily with trepidation and apprehensive faces of adults mixed with the fearful ones of the children who had the misfortune to be eligible for the reaping. The district's usual coal-dusted appearance looked even murkier as Peeta and Gale ducked between allies and shops to avoid the masses of peacekeepers that wandered around the District. As Peeta made his way to the hob having parted with Gale, who headed to the merchant sector of the District, he noticed the shut windows and the lack of little smiling faces who played early in the meadow. By the time he stepped at Greasy Sae's he mouth had worked its way into a set frown that usually inhabited his face outside of the woods.

He traded the geese for their worth of money and headed to the bakery where he knew his last kills would be appreciated. Along the way he was intercepted by Darius, the only peacekeeper careless enough to openly declare his outright disgust towards the reaping. Maybe that was why Peeta managed to get along with him. He made a detour to have a small chat with the butcher lady and to trade one of Prim's old shirts with a ball of yarn and a few buttons from the old Martha down from the cobbler's.

A bell jingled merrily as Peeta pushed his way inside the bakery. The mouth watering aroma of recently baked goodness blasted his nostrils. A corner of his mouth turned up when he saw the back of a blonde head assembling fresh baked items on a shelf stacked up on the wall behind the counter. Katniss looked up at the ringing and just like his, her mouth took on a smile. Her face was flushed from working in the blazing bakery all morning and a few strands of curly gold escaped the complicated braid that flowed from the back of her head down her shoulder. A small bit of yellow frosting was smeared at the corner of her right cheek and her hair was dusted in flour. He thought she looked absolutely perfect. She wiped her hands with an apron tied around her waist.

"Hey." She said, with a small smile. Even she hadn't managed to escape the damper that the reaping had managed to put on the mood of the whole district. From the kitchen behind her he could hear her parents moving about along with Ives and Dew- the hired apprentices.

"Hey." He replied, reaching out a hand across the counter to wipe the frosting of her face. "Busy morning?"

She shrugged, a lock of hair falling across her face that she hastily pushed behind her ear. "I got to frost a lot of things so that's a perk."

He nodded understandingly. Frosting cakes and cookies was her escape like hunting was his. No one wanted to meet a Katniss who had been deprived of her frosting time. The sight was scarier than the pack of tiger mutts from the last games.

"What do you have for me today?" she asked and without waiting for his answer, she moved back to the packed shelf and picked up a loaf of hazelnut bread and slid it into a brown paper bag. Wordlessly he pushed the two squirrels down the counter and accepted the loaf in return. Katniss inspected the squirrels critically.

"Nice." She concluded "right through the eye."

"Well, what did you expect?" he asked her a little smugly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He could see the amusement dancing in her eyes. "My my, look who is getting all cocky."

He chuckled and leaned forward over the counter to intertwine his fingers with hers. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. He still didn't know how he had come to trust this girl despite all their differences. The two of them together were a mystery for the whole district. The people had seen seam kids and merchants interact before but never had they seen a merchant and a seam kid co-exist with such synchronization. He still remembered the first time he had walked with her to the Merchant sector of the district when they were hardly twelve. People had looked at them with wide eyes and curious stares. Hushed whispers had shadowed them all the way to the bakery and back. The next day when she had sat with him at lunch, ignoring the blatant ogles and the gossip that seemed to fly from table to table, he had decided that they could be friends.

"How's Prim?" Katniss asked, her face taking on a despondent expression as she relived something painful in her mind. He knew that she was probably thinking about her first reaping. It would not have been a pleasant experience. "How's she handling it?"

"Not good" he sighed "she woke up screaming last night. I had to wait almost an hour for her to fall back asleep again." The bitterness in his voice was unmistakable. Seeing her sister scared and screaming from dread had pulled something inside of him. Peeta was resolved to make Prim's life happy and worth living. He would make sure that she would never have to struggle to survive again and he was determined to give her everything his own life had snatched away from him. But all the while he knew that this was one thing he had no control over, he could stop her from taking tasserae but he couldn't stop her name from being registered in the reaping. He protected her in every way that he could but against the reaping he felt powerless.

"At least you don't have to worry about her too much. One chit among thousands. The odds actually are in her favor." Katniss told him in a soothing voice. "You and Gale on the other hand. That's what I'm worried about."

The fear and concern was splattered clearly across her face. He could do or say nothing to make her worry dissipate just like he could do nothing about the six times her own name had been entered into the reaping bowl. The trepidation was slowly taking control over the logical part of his head. She and Gale had been enough to worry about for the past four years and now Prim had just been added to the list. After the mine incident, these were all the people he had allowed himself and he was not ready to let them go just yet.

He tugged at her hand lightly, "Walk with me?"

Katniss sighed and jerked her head in the direction of the kitchen. "I'm sorry. It's chaos in there. They need me manning the register." She informed him lightly tapping the old cash register placed in front of her. He could feel the regret lacing her voice and nodded understandingly.

"It's okay. I have to go anyway." He gave her hand one last squeeze. "See you at the square?"

She nodded. "Like I have a choice."

The trek back to the seam was the one that his brain had permanently memorized, so much so that he didn't even pay attention to where he was heading, just letting his feat lead the way. The path was dusty and cluttered with pieces of charcoal and dust like everything else in the seam. Their house was small, with a single floor that hadn't been properly patched up since his father's demise. With him being the sole supporter of the family, they had no other choice. When he stepped inside he was greeted by Prim who was already dressed for the reaping. She wore a ruffled white blouse which was a little big on her paired with a blue skirt that fell neatly to her knees. Her pale hair was tied in two plaits on either side of her head. She looked like their mother and surprisingly a little like Katniss herself with her honey colored hair and bright blue eyes. She would often be mistaken for Katniss's sister rather than his own when the two were together. He could tell that her clothes were new and silently wished that she could have new clothes in happier occasions that did not comprise of the reaping.

He ruffled her hair in passing and heard her cry of protest at him ruining her braids. His clothes were already laid out for him in his room and his mother had set a bath for him. He hadn't harbored a proper relation with his mother for years and somewhere along it they had developed a silent way of communication. He would bring the meat and she would cook it. He would give her the money he earned from his hunting and she would use it to run the house. Their conversations always bordered on stiff topics- if she wanted turkey or squirrel; did he have a nice hunt? And occasionally she would ask him if he wanted new shoes –he had worn his hunting boots for two years and counting- and he would reply that he rather have her buy Prim a new dress. Peeta had tried often to forgive her for her behavior but in truth, he had never been the forgiving type.

He came out after donning the itchy and stiff grey shirt and found Prim by the window nervously twisting her hands.

"Tuck in your tail little duck." He told her poking her lightly in the stomach.

"Quack." She giggled, reaching for her back to tuck in her shirt.

"Quack yourself." he replied with a small laugh. "Come on, let's eat breakfast."

They ate fresh strawberries with bread, with him managing to scrounge some strawberries earlier from Gale and the fresh loaf he had just bought from the bakery. At one o'clock Peeta took Prim's hand and departed to the square with their mother trailing after them. Since attendance was mandatory it was always best to be early lest the peacekeepers barge through the door.

People had already started to file in the square and sign in by the time they arrived. The sun now hovered blindingly over the district elongating the shadows and basking the square in heat. The vivid sunlight contrasted heavily with the general mood of the district and the heat was equivalent to adding salt over the wound. As the both of them stepped into the widespread line, he could practically feel Prim shaking silently behind him and the mere feel of it made rage well up inside of him. He had never hated the Capitol more than at that moment but he struggled to let the emotion register on his face. He turned to face her, bent to her level and looked straight into her eyes.

"They're not going to pick you, okay?" he told her his best convincing voice, his hands placed comfortingly on her shoulders. "Your name has only been there once. They are not going to pick you."

The conviction in his tone surprised even himself. She only nodded looking at him with big, fearful eyes that almost tore him apart. He hugged her little frame against his and planted a quick kiss on her forehead. "We'll be alright."

"We'll be alright." She echoed his words in a whisper.

As he walked Prim to the roped section designated for the twelve year olds, he saw Katniss running towards them her golden braid swinging behind her. She stopped in front of them and straightened her skirt. She wore an elegant white reaping dress that fell down to her knees. It had been paired with a blue ribbon both at her waist and tied in a neat bow at the end of her braid. It was actually the first time he had seen Katniss in a dress. In the reapings before she had always worn shirts and skirts. The dress highlighted the more mature parts of her personality and he couldn't say that he didn't like her in it.

She hardly dropped him a greeting and instead bended down directly in front of Prim just like he had done a few moments ago. In her palm she held a golden pin that shimmered brilliantly against the harsh sun.

"This is a mockingjay pin." She told Prim in a soft voice. "It's for luck. To protect you and keep you safe."

As Peeta watched Katniss attach the pin to the front of Prim's blouse he couldn't help marvel at the thoughtfulness of the gesture. His heart swelled with affection at the sight of both of them and he had a maniacal instinct to protect them both. He wanted to hide them somewhere safe, where they would be free from the twisted games of their lives. Perhaps they really could've run away, like Gale had suggested a long time ago. Maybe then they could've been safe.

He shook these thoughts away. He had no time to foster such preposterous beliefs at that moment. Prim walked to stand in her section. He observed her for a little longer and saw her gently stroking the mockingjay pin. He turned to face Katniss and felt at loss of words to properly express his gratitude. So he only muttered a small thank you. Words had never been his strong suit. She smiled tightly but he knew that she could feel the sentiment behind the words.

"I'll meet you afterwards. We'll celebrate in the bakery." Her voice was comforting and held an edge to it. She said it like a fact and not a suggestion. They were going to get through this.

Peeta found himself standing among a crowd of sixteen year old with equally gaunt and frightened faces. He exchanged terse nods with several of them before everyone focused their attention to the makeshift stage that had been set up in the front of the square. Behind the stage the Justice Building was adorned with a mammoth banner that proudly held the seal of Panem. Peeta would have gladly ripped the whole thing to shreds himself, if it wasn't illegal. His eyes travel to the two huge glass bowls that were filled to the brim with carefully folded chits. In the right bowl twenty two of the chits held his name in neat, cursive handwriting.

Three chairs had been set up for the mayor, the District's only living victor: Haymitch Abernathy and their District escort: Effie Trinket. This year, apparently pink was all the rage in the Capitol because Effie was completely covered in it. Her wig was a vivid glittering magenta and her dress presented the look of a bright pink peacock matched perfectly from the obtuse jewelry to the lipstick and nail color. Just as the clock struck two the Mayor got up started the usual procedure that had been repeated for the past seventy three years. He drawled on about the fall of their ancestors and how Panem had risen up from the ashes. He praised and thanked the Capitol and reminded the whole district that these games were the District's own punishment. The games were a reminder that the Dark Days should never be repeated. It was a show of power. It was a show brutality. Every single person including Peeta had the whole speech memorized by now. Instead Peeta searched the crowd of eighteen year old and his eyes immediately found Gale among the heads of raven. He looked back at Peeta and as their eyes met, reassurance seemed to pass through the gazes.

The mayor recited the list of the previous victor of District Twelve which merely consist of two names one of whom was dead. A very drunk Haymitch Abernathy stood as his name was called out, wobbled around the stage and tried to hug Effie who subtly tried to push him off. As the mayor retook his seat on the stage a bright and bubbly Effie Trinket took her place at the podium and tapped the microphone, calling loudly for attention.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be_ ever_ in your favor!"

Her curls looked slightly off center while she drawled about what an honor it was to represent District12. The whole District could probably see through the transparent lie because everyone knew she was just aching to jump to a better District where she would have had more than one proper Victor and not drunk men who were an embarrassment to work with.

Through the crowd Peeta spotted Katniss looking at him with a ghost of a smile. She stood nervously beside Madge Undersee, the mayor's daughter and Delly Cartwright. If the circumstances weren't so dire the both of them would've had a right laugh on the expense of their escort and mentor. But suddenly Peeta could only think of the six chits that held her name, the twenty two that held his, the forty three that were Gales and even the single that belonged to Prim. He saw Katniss's smile disappear and immediately knew that she was thinking of the same thing. He saw her turn away as her face tightened and he wished desperately that he could've comforted her right then.

"Ladies first!"

Effie announced in an animated voice and crossed the podium over to the left bowl that held hundreds of slips. She made a big show of twirling her hand dramatically and dug it deep through the chits. She plucked out a single out of the bowl and the crowds collectively held their breath. The square was deadly silent and Peeta felt his breakfast making a reappearance. Let it not be her. He wished or prayed to whatever higher entity. Let it not be Katniss. Not her. Anyone but her.

Effie crossed back to the podium slowly unfolded the tiny slip of paper and read the name in a loud clear voice that echoed through the District. And it wasn't her.

"Primrose Everdeen!"

Everdeen. Primrose Everdeen. _Prim_. Suddenly there was no ground under his feet. He tried to breathe but his lungs had lost the ability to function. He tried speaking but his brain wouldn't work as the name bounced back and forth inside his head. He had lost all sense of sight, smell touch- anything. He looked blindly unseeing and vaguely he heard cries of protest. His body felt numb from shock and for the first time he truly knew what it felt like to be paralyzed from terror. One slips among thousands. This couldn't be happening. There must have been a mistake.

Her chances had been as slim as physically possible. So slim that he hadn't even bothered to worry for her. He had never allowed her to take tasserae, made sure that her chances would always be minimum. But it hadn't mattered, none of it had mattered.

It was then that he saw her move from her position. His little sister. His little sweet Primrose who he cherished more than his entire life, who adopted stray cats because she felt sorry for its ugly and who gathered him blooming dandelions every spring. He saw her pale face, her breath sucked in, her hands clutched to her sides, taking step after step, forcing her feet to carry on. It was the sight of the little Mockingjay pinned to her blouse that finally managed to rouse him out of his paralyses.

"Prim!" a strangled cry escaped his lips and he could hear the crack in his own voice, "Prim!"

He struggled through the crowds of people trying to reach her and somehow trying to stop her. He pushed away shocked faces, jostling bodies and identical raven heads but was held back by strong pair of arms from either side that managed to detain him fully. Peacekeepers. He thrashed about, fighting to get free and shouting with hoarse cries. He was about to shout to volunteer when he remembered the rule. A girl volunteer for a girl, a boy volunteer for a boy. He cried out for her again, his cry sounding pained to his own ears

Peeta's eye connected with Katniss's who stared at him in stooped horror. All the morning flush her face had previously held had disappeared being replaced with suppressed anguish. And as she searched his pain filled face he saw a decision flash across her sapphire eyes that usually captivated him for hours. Suddenly without knowing, he knew what she was about to do and he shouted at her just as she declared in a loud powerful voice.

"I volunteer." Her voice reverberated through the hushed square. "I volunteer as tribute."

The crowd reacted, surprised. Never in the history of the Games had there ever been a volunteer from District Twelve. Prim turned back on her feet with horror in her eyes. Madge cried out and tried to hold on to Katniss's arm and somewhere from the crowded streets he heard Mrs. Mellark shouting for her daughter. But all he could see were her eyes, flashing the brilliant blue as she clenched her jaw and made her verdict.

"Oh lovely, a volunteer! A volunteer! In District 12!"

He had stopped struggling by now, his warning dead on his lips. The peacekeepers released him when he went limp in their clutches and mutely watched her purpose- filled stride to the stage. His body felt unstable, like he was about to spontaneously combust to flames or fall to ashes.

"Katniss!" this time the shout was from Prim "Katniss, no!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Suddenly Gale was behind his sister. He easily lifted Prim's nimble body to his shoulder and carried her away as she shouted and struggled against his grip. All the while, Peeta stood, not breathing, not moving, his eyes trained directly on the walking form of his girl as she moved towards the stage.

"Well, bravo! A volunteer! That's the spirit of the Games!" Effie gushed, excited to finally getting some action. "What's your name?"

Katniss hesitated a little and then announced her name in a high and clear voice just like the one she used when she sacrificed herself for his sister. Effie was gushing again excitedly but he heard nothing. Just that he could see her face standing on the stage, proud and defiant and her eyes, directly staring at him. He read them easily. _I made my decision and I don't regret it._

"What a thrilling day!" Effie continued, her pitch seemed significantly higher "but now the time to choose our male tribute!"

He was startled out of his reverie. With his life turning into a recap of his nightmares he had almost forgotten that there was still more to come. Effie was back in front of the glass bowls, this time reaching inside the one on the right. She shuffled her hand around and pulled out a random stiff piece of paper. One more corpse to foresee in the future. His vision seemed sidelined as Effie opened the small chit, like he couldn't properly focus on anything. His mind was reeling, he couldn't let this happen. He had to do something. He had to save Katniss somehow.

Effie cleared her throat loudly and then announced in a colorful voice, "Cole Owens"

Cole? He had heard that name before. He must have been a seam kid but it didn't matter. Cole wasn't really going in the Games. Just as quickly as she had done, he made his decision too. If she was going down, he would go down with her.

"I volunteer."

His voice was like barbed wire cutting through skin. It was filled with, pain and torment that ran deeper than hunger; it was filled with remorse mingled in fierce determination and purpose. This time the shouts of surprise were so much louder and Prim's tear filled screams pierced his heart but he didn't look at her lest he should falter. He searched for Gale instead and as his eyes found Gale's for the second time that day, he saw the sorrow reflected plainly on Gale's face. And yet there was understanding. Why he had done what he had done and a silent promise. That he would protect Prim, that he wouldn't let any harm come near Prim. Peeta had known it anyways. He remembered the pledge they had taken nonchalantly, one chilly winter night.

_If I ever get reaped you protect Prim and if you ever get reaped I'll protect Rory and Vick and Posy. _

It was a given fact that didn't need any reassurances. There were some bonds that ran deeper than blood and some promises that could never be broken.

He forced his lead-like legs to move forward. Left foot, right foot. Besides him the crowd was almost in uproar and it gave him an unknown sense of satisfaction and pleasure. He never could have believed that both of them could have incited such a reaction from these people. Somewhere he thought he spotted his mother but he didn't look at her. He knew what kind of disappointment and anger would be plastered across her face. Instead he turned his head to finally look at Katniss and at the sight of her face, he clenched his fists tightly and forcefully commanded his feet to move forward. _Keep moving. Keep moving._

Her face was ashen white and her hands that were clasped over her mouth were visibly shaking. Gone was the strong persona she put up when she came forward for his sister instead her eyes were shinning with unshed tears. The sharp blue irises held surprise and accusation. _What did you do?_ He could practically hear her scream in his head. _What the hell did you do?_

He replied her silently without saying a word. _You die, I die too._

Effie was practically jumping around the stage in her six-inch heel, positively overcome with glee. Two volunteers at the same day from District Twelve! This day was going down in the history of Panem. He could practically feel the stares of the whole population of Panem trained on their television screens watching the spectacle. The massive screens that hung along the square provided a variety of images. His own illustration, looking ahead impassively, her face mixed with desperation and anger and Prim's who was being held by Gale with tears running freely down her cheeks. He tried to keep his eyes averted from the screens but occasionally his eyes would flicker to the blaring displays.

The District resumed its deadly silence and as he climbed the steps to the stairs he could hear the thud of his hunting boots resound through the air. Rigidly he went to stand beside Katniss. She studiously avoided his gaze as Effie gushed about before thrusting the microphone in his face. When he spoke his name his voice came out raspy.

"Peeta Everdeen."

"How wonderful!" Effie exclaimed "let's give a big round of applause to the tributes of District Twelve, Katniss and Peeta!"

Surprisingly, not a single person from the whole Districts clapped, not the drunks who were beyond caring or the people who were betting on the odds. Probably because the whole District knew them. The seam boy who brought their meat and the baker girl who decorated the beautiful cakes and gave little children free cookies. They probably knew them because they broke the system. They were the two kids who defied the morals of society, who broke tradition of the blatant dispersion of the two sects of the District.

Quiet suddenly something amazing happened. A seemingly random man from the crowd placed three fingers of his left hand on his lips and held it out to the two of them. Slowly another hand was lifted into the air followed by another and another until the whole District had its hands held out to them. Peeta sucked in his breath and beside him he saw Katniss's eyes widen. This was a gesture that was rarely seen anymore in District Twelve. It meant thank you, it meant admiration, it meant goodbye to someone you loved.

Standing there, it meant everything to him.

He thought he would actually be in the danger of crying but fortunately Haymitch, their drunken mentor saved the day. He staggered over to them and threw an arm around each of their shoulders.

"Look at these two!" he hollered "look at them!"

For a wasted old man his grip was strong and his breath smelled disgustingly of liquor making Peeta want to gag.

"I like 'em both!" he exclaimed. "Lots of …" he trailed of, searching for the right word.

"Spunk!" Haymitch cried triumphantly before releasing his grip on Peeta's shoulder. He stumbled to the front of the stage.

"More than you!" he pointed directly at the camera "and more than you!"

Thankfully the remorse was cut short when Haymitch displayed a spectacular nosedive of the stage and lied limp on the ground apparently unconscious. All the cameras were currently trained on him and it was just enough time for Peeta to reclaim his composure, straighten his back, and regain his impassive look. He looked straight ahead, not being sure if he could handle looking at all the familiar faces right now.

Effie tried to get the ball rolling again and motioned for the both of them to shake hands. He took her small, familiar hand in his and met her gaze head-on. Suddenly he couldn't take the desperate and grief filled look in her eyes, he couldn't take the way her hand trembled slightly in his. So, he did the only logical thing that came to mind, he pulled her into his arms and wrapped her in an embrace that she gladly returned. The whole District including even their escort watched the hugging pair on the stage with transfixed eyes. It was the first time they had seen an emotion other that fear or hate or indifference between two reaped tributes. It was the first time they had seen this kind of emotion in the Games.

He knew that he would regret it later. Hugging your District partner in front of live television was not preferable but after the demonstration they had already put up he didn't have it in his heart to care. He tried to pass on every emotion that he had in that one hug. And he tried to tell her why he volunteered.

He did it because she was coming home. He would go to hell and back if that was what it took to get her home. He already owed her his life and his sanity and now he owed her his sister's life too. He would go into the arena with her. He would protect her all the way and damn him if he let as much as a twig's worth of harm touch her. Somewhere along the way from strangers to best friends and to lovers she had become his life and he wasn't going to lose her to the Capitol. It was the one thing he wouldn't allow the Capitol to do even if he had to personally slaughter the remaining twenty- two tributes.

Behind them the national anthem of Panem tore through the air.

Ladies and gentlemen, let the games begin.

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**Here you go lovlies another chapter! c: Hope you enjoyed!**

**Please please please tell me what you think? Pretty please?**

**Constructive criticism is wanted! but flames will be extinguished by firefighters**

**The song at the beginning is Who am I am living for? by Katy Perry**

**A line in this chapter is stolen from Insurgent by Veronica Roth. Fans of the Divergent series will know :D **

**On a side note I just started reading the Beautiful Creatures. I really like it up-till now! But no spoilers though! :D**

**Sneak peak from next chapter!:**

"You have to understand why I did it." she attempted again and successfully managed to choke out a whole sentence, a heavy feeling of urgency lacing her voice. "I –I saw his face in the crowd and… I never would have forgiven myself knowing there was something I could do-" her words had now taken up an almost desperate tone, silently begging for her parents to just _know_.

** yayyy :D**

**~EG**


	3. Chapter 2

**Holy mother of Zeus guys I'm like crying okay? 20+ reviews and more than 50 followers on two chapters.**

**I'm dead okay. I am literally dying. But I'm dying really really happy c:**

**This chapter is a bit small but oh well. **

**Disclaimer: If I owned The Hunger Games I would probably be taking a swim in my pool of money. **

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Chapter 2

Katniss

_I stared up at the sun_

_Thought of all of the people, places and things I have loved_

_I stared up just to see_

_With all of the faces, you were the one next to me_

_You can see the light start to tremble_

_Washing what you know out to sea_

_You can see the life out of the window tonight._

_If I lose myself tonight, it will be by your side _

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As Katniss forced herself to walk, her muscles seemed to have a mind of their own when they refused to cooperate. Her legs felt like they were made of lead, her hands were still trembling and she took heavy breaths to control her emotion. She tried to look as impassive as possible given the fact that cameras could still be trained directly upon her but no matter how much she tried to act she knew she had already blown her cover by her reaction when Peeta volunteered. Her chest ached silently as the situation finally sunk in. They were both tributes, both volunteers, headed for an arena where only one could survive.

She knew she had to quickly stable her fragile emotional state because at that moment she wanted to scream her lungs raw or sob till she ran out of tears. Both of the options seemed pretty amiable but she didn't want the other tributes to label her as a weakling even before they reached the Capitol. As she walked stiffly, Peacekeeper flanked her at both sides like remote controlled robots. Their actions were precise, quick and rigid. She half expected the suits to carry wires and metal instead of human forms. Off in the distance she saw Prim sobbing, horrible heartbreaking sobs while Gale held and tried to comfort her. Katniss looked away immediately, her eyes stinging.

She hated to see Prim like this, but she knew it was either this or Prim going to the games herself. And Katniss could guarantee that she would've hated that more. When she had heard Prim's name being called out she hadn't turn to look at Prim instead she had turned to look at Peeta and seeing his expression was a physical blow to her heart. His face was devoid of color, his expression shell shocked because how could it have happened? It seemed impossible but then realization sunk in and when he had screamed for his sister the pain in his voice was palpable. His voice was like a trigger to her mind and she had shaken out of her astounded trauma. She saw little Prim stagger her way to the stage and the little mockingjay pinned to her chest had shown in limelight. Katniss's own words had echoed in her mind.

_This is a mockingjay. It's for luck, to protect you and keep you safe._

Suddenly it wasn't a question what she had to do. She had already sealed the pact when she had promised to Prim that the pin would protect her and keep her safe. She had to protect Prim and not for her own sake but for Peeta's too. If there was one thing Katniss knew about Peeta was the fact that he loved her sister more than anything he had ever loved. She saw it in little actions every day. How he would split his food in lunch and give her the bigger portion or how he would buy her a new ribbon or a small trinket every time he could spare some money or how he would tolerate the ugly stray cat because Prim loved it. Seeing Peeta yelling helplessly for her sister had affected her in more ways than she could describe. He had always been the strong one. He had gone through so many hardships in mere childhood that she thought that it was impossible to break him anymore. Oh, how wrong she was. At that moment, the only thing she had known was that Prim was walking right to the stage and she needed to stop her, whatever she might have to do. _For Peeta._

She was satisfied when her voice came out strident and strong. The walk to the stage wasn't difficult but to stare back at the astounded crowd was. When her eyes had met Peeta's she filled them with as much emotion as she could to relay her intent clearly. It was her decision, she was proud of it and she did not nor would she ever regret it.

It was the flash of fierceness on Peeta's face which sent her into a frenzy of fear. His eyes turned from paralyzed to painful and then to contemplative. The look of determination on his face was clearly unmistakable. It was a look that her face would have surely held when she volunteered for Prim. In a fraction of a second it dawned upon her what he was about to do. _Oh, god._ Suddenly she was wishing, praying desperately that whatever higher force would stop him, some superior being might be able to change his decision.

As his voice rebounded back to her, her suspicions were confirmed. In all of a second the whole square was in pandemonium. Cries and shouts of outrage but she hadn't had it in her to be surprised by their reaction. Because just like her, his eyes silently sent her a crystal clear message. _It's for you. If you die then I die too._

She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream at him at the top of her voice, she wanted to punch him and make him take back his decision. But there was still a treacherous part of her heart that was relieved that she wouldn't be alone. She wanted to rip that part out and gut it like a fish. Instead she stood stiffly at the stage, her precarious mask shattered at her feet. Her hands trembled uncontrollably and she brought them to her face to wipe the single tear that had managed to escape despite her mental protests. It seemed unreal. Maybe if she pinched herself she would be able to wake up. This was a nightmare, she had those very frequently. It can't be real, right?

Yet it was real, from Effie's excited screech to the last drops of pain that she felt in Prim's cries. Anything that could remotely quell the anguish was his arms wrapped around her reminding her that despite everything they were staying together. She hugged him back tightly not caring about the fleets of cameras fixed directly upon them. She relished in the minute moment of comfort in this colossal disaster and closed her eyes hoping that when they opened they would both be standing encased in the deep confinements of the forest, safe from the clutches of the Capitol.

The Peacekeepers ushered her inside the Justice building and guided her into a room. The room was plush, lavishly decorated with midnight blues and royal purples. Little, expensive pieces of china sat luxuriously on mahogany tables and the soft carpet fluttered beneath her ragged shoes. She sat down on a posh, velvet sofa and lightly ran her hand along its lengthy surface. This single room was probably worth more than half the District and the fact made her blood boil with anger. She would have probably thrown a little china made capitol seal against the wall if she hadn't been interrupted when the door burst open.

Her parents made their way inside the room, looking distraught with ashen faces and teary eyes. The sight did nothing to help her already rickety emotional state and by the time both of them had enveloped her into their arms she had open tears running down her face. To think that this could be the last time she would ever see her parents. The last time she would feel her mother tenderly patting her hair or the last time she would be encircled in her father's arms. She would've started bawling then but she controlled her tears for their sakes. She was the one who had willingly signed up for this._ It's my choice. It's my decision. _

"Don't cry, please." She said to her mother; with imploring tear filled eyes, whose body had started shaking form sobs. She couldn't bear the heartbroken look on her face. Every tear that flowed down her mother's cheek was like a blow to her gut. She reached forward with shaky hands and wiped the tears of her face. Kiara Mellark sniffed before enclosing Katniss in her arms again.

"Oh, god. My baby…" Kiara's voice chocked in her throat. "I just-"

Katniss cut her mother off. All of a sudden she was panicking. This was the last time she would see her family. She just had to make sure they understood. She wanted to make them understand why she had volunteered. She couldn't die without them knowing, they _had_ to know. The dam of emotions that was slowly filling up inside of her had started to leak.

"Mom, dad, I-" Katniss took a staggering breath, finally mustering up the courage to look at them in the eye

"You have to understand why…" she trailed off, trying to think of the words that could possibly describe her predicament. There were no words.

"You have to understand why I did it." she attempted again and successfully managed to choke out a whole sentence, a heavy feeling of urgency lacing her voice. "I –I saw his face in the crowd and… I never would have forgiven myself knowing there was something I could do-" her words had now taken up an almost desperate tone, silently begging for her parents to just _know_.

Her father shushed her lightly, his azure eyes soft with clear understanding. The relief was flagrant as it coursed through her system and her lower lip trembled with the effort it took to halt her tears. His father caressed her check softly and took a deep breath. The calluses of his hands were rough with years of work and yet held an infinite amount of love and comfort. His eyes were red and swollen and when he spoke his voice came out choked.

"When you're out there, remember something okay?" he implored. Katniss nodded hastily, not trusting herself to speak but eager to take any kind of wise words her father had to offer. Her mother had gently taken hold of her hands and silently ran the pad of her thumb over the smooth skin

"When you're out there…I want you to remember yourself, I want you to remember your values, what you believe in and what you have been brought up believing." He looked at her steadily, speaking each word clearly and slowly as if drilling a message inside her head. His voice wavered slightly before he could continue. "I'm not asking you to do anything unacceptable or anything that might hold severe consequences but-" he paused, removing his hand from her face and placing it lightly over her heart.

"-but I want you to play by your own rules. Don't let them change you, Katty" her father's voice slowly molded its way into her heart and she nodded rapidly trying to usher away the silent tears that were threatening to spill.

He seldom used this nickname but when he did it always held significance. He somehow found his way to communicate everything to her by uttering that single childish pet name. She was vaguely confused by his words but she understood the deeper context that they held. He was telling her to stay true to herself no matter whatever the circumstances. He was telling her to not drift from her morals. And she understood this because she knew that there were much bigger things than life that the Games took away from you. They take away your humanity, they take away your faith and they take away your sanity. She had seen it happen before her eyes. The way that that tribute from District Two had slit a person's throat with her teeth and the way the girl from Four had lost her mind. She saw it every year when the Victor that emerged, carried a heart of stone, not being capable of love or kindness. Capable of nothing but remorse and death.

She looked directly at her parents and forced the words out despite the lump in her throat, "I promise." She cried, her words coming out in no more than a mere whisper. "I-I won't let them change me" she swallowed hard. Speaking and forming coherent words had never seemed this difficult "I'll always be you daughter." through her blurred eyes she managed to give them a trembling smile, "I'll always be your Katty."

Her parents had barely embraced her again when the peacekeepers barged through the door.

"Time's up." the man in the stark white suit boomed and ushered for her parents to depart.

The panic that she felt was blinding as her parents escaped from her grasp. She didn't know what to do or what to say only that this was the last time she would ever see them. She didn't plan on coming back. As their protesting forms were pushed through the doors she verbalized the only rational thought that came to her mind.

"I love you! I love you both, don't-" _ever forget it_. Her words died on her lips as the door fell shut with an echoing finality and she fell back to the sofa, her breath heaving with silent sobs. Suddenly the room was eerily quiet and she took the silence to control her wayward emotions and to compose her exterior. She closed her eyes tightly until she had managed to expel all the memories that were beginning to resurface from the depths of her mind.

Not moments later, the door opened again and in stepped little Primrose. She looked like she had cried herself out but the sight of Katniss only ensued more tears. Wordlessly Katniss held out her arms and Prim stepped willingly inside them and hugged her tightly from the waist. Prim's eyes were scrunched up in a struggle to control the tears but her efforts were futile. Her petite form shook quietly from suppressed sobs. Katniss patted her hair gently until Prim looked up at her with large red-rimmed eyes.

"You shouldn't h-have done it." Prim hiccuped. "I won't ever be able to forgive myself."

For a moment Katniss was at loss for words because Prim's point was so much similar to her own. This was part of the reason why she had volunteered, because she would never have been able to forgive herself.

Katniss continued to run her hands over Prim's honey-colored hair in a soothing gesture. "I made my decision Prim." She spoke in an oddly strong voice. "You know that he would have volunteered either way. But at least now I can make sure that he comes back." She told Prim, already knowing the truth of her own statement. Peeta would have volunteered whether it be her or Prim.

"It's just too wrong." Prim's voice quivered "I can't ask you to give yourself up to save him. I can't-"

Katniss hushed Prim in mid-sentence. "You don't have too, Prim."

Prim remained quiet then and Katniss hugged her even closer. "Take care of yourself when we're gone. Gale will help you; sell the cheese you make from Lady. Don't let my sacrifice go to waste." She informed Prim in a light voice cleaning away her tears. Prim nodded her head like she had already heard the advice before and Katniss realized that she probably already had. Slowly Prim looked up and undid the mockingjay pin from her blouse. Katniss was about to protest when Prim spoke, lightly holding up the glittering pin to Katniss.

"It's to protect you and keep you safe."

All of a sudden the peacekeepers were there again and as Katniss saw Prim exit the door she silently pinned the mockingjay to her own chest. It was a reminder from a sweet little girl back home who waited for one of her family to come back.

The next person to enter was Gale. His grey eyes appeared almost dead and he swallowed hard as he made his way towards her. His face was plastered with guilt and shame when he spoke.

"You know what I'm going to ask from you, right?" He didn't dare to meet her eyes. Though, she did know. She knew the fact like she knew that the sun rose from the east. He could actually sense the confirmation in the environment. When he talked next his voice broke and for a split second he actually appeared vulnerable before his face regained his rigid expression. The sight was like a jolt to her conscious because it was the first time she had ever seen such emotion on his face. Like Peeta, Gale wore a mask that only few people ever uncovered. Although they were friends she wasn't one of them.

"Does this make me bad person?" he posed to the air "asking you to give up your life to save his?"

"No." Katniss replied her voice low and oddly hollow "if I was in your place, I would've done the same."

He nodded once then to her astonishment he hugged her. It was quick with a murmured "I'm sorry" into her ears. He left before the peacekeepers came and Katniss wondered silently how Gale Hawthorne had ever acquired the ability to make her cry.

The next person to enter was Madge whose eyes were swollen and dried tear tracks trailed her cheeks. She tackled Katniss in a fierce embrace and Katniss hugged her even closer. The two of them stayed in the same spot before Madge spoke in a hoarse voice

"Do what you have to do, yeah?" she sniffed lightly "make me proud."

Katniss could feel the all too familiar lump rising in her throat. She didn't trust herself to speak so she nodded quietly. She could imagine what Madge was feeling right now. She had only to think what she would've felt if Madge was the one to get reaped. They had been friends since kindergarten and even before that she knew Madge because of their families. She had learnt to trust Madge when she had been the only person who hadn't judged her when she had befriended Peeta. Madge had been the only reprieve from the scornful looks and scalding gazes. She wanted to say a proper goodbye to Madge but at this stage she didn't trust her voice to work. She knew Madge would understand.

A few townies came afterwards all of them wearing identical looks of sympathy intermingled with pity. The only person in them who didn't make her feel remotely uncomfortable was Delly who was probably the only one who had actually come to say goodbye instead of mere formality. She was quiet which was indication enough of her sorrow. She said a few quiet words and then left Katniss to her solitude. It was hardly a few seconds before the peacekeepers arrived to take her away.

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**Here you go! :'D**

**Please please please tell me what you think! c: Constructive criticism is wanted please!**

**Guys I just watched the Beautiful Creatures movie and it was screwed up so bad that I am emotionally devastated D': The books are so good I am already on the third one. I really wish I had the licence to kill. Cheer me up maybe?**

**The song is If I lose myself by One Republic **

**Anyways...the sneak peak from the next chapter! :D**

"That's extremely witty." He retorted. "But unfortunately, I don't have a sense of humor."

**:'D**

**~EG**


	4. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! I hope the wait wasn't too long :)**

**So, since there isn't much new going on in this chapter, I started a series of flashbacks which will continue throughout the story. The flashbacks are basically Everlark back-story, how they came to know each other, how they got together and other important stuff. The flashbacks won't be in every single chapter, though. Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Day 547, still don't own The Hunger Games.**

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Chapter 3

Peeta

_I'm waking up_

_I feel it in my bones_

_Enough to make my systems blow_

_Welcome to the new age _

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Peeta spotted a sleek black car waiting for him outside the Justice building. Once again he was heavily flanked by peacekeepers whose purpose he couldn't fully comprehend. He thought that one man with a loaded state of the art shotgun was enough to escort an unarmed seam boy to the car but apparently the Capitol was a little insecure or a bit too over-conscious. The vehicle was a stark black, elongated machine that glimmered brilliantly in the sun and would've been swoon worthy if it wasn't currently in District Twelve. The people who weren't certain of their next meal had long since abandoned hopes of such Capitol luxuries. Nor would they know how to operate a car even if they owned one.

Peeta slid in without protest and found Katniss already seated inside while Effie babbled away. The ride to the station was unnaturally quiet if Effie's constant chatter was ignored. The tension in the air was so thick Peeta would probably a hacksaw to cut through it. Both of them maintained the uninterrupted silence while Peeta discreetly observed her from the corner of his eye. She had tear tracks on her cheeks and her eyes were puffy and red. Seeing her hurt, hurt him return so he made sure to look away. He had only remotely managed to conceal his own tears and didn't want them to make a reappearance. Her tears were evidence to the severity of the situation because he was almost certain that he had only ever seen her cry twice since the day the two of them legitimately met. And that was a well long time ago. That day was starkly engraved in his mind.

_Peeta changed his course and ducked hastily behind a marble column as he heard her walk pass. Once again she was accompanied by another blonde haired and blue eyed girl that he distinctly remembered to be the mayor's daughter. He cursed lightly under his breath. That girl seemed to accompany Katniss everywhere which was making his goal more and more difficult by the minute. It was almost time for the last bell and he hadn't been able to catch her alone. For the whole day Peeta had found himself fidgeting and glancing in her direction before swiftly looking away before her eyes could meet his. He had never known that a single thank you would ever cause him this amount of anxiousness. _

_When the bell signaling the end of another school day sounded, Peeta was out before the rest of the class could get out of their chairs. He hugged his threadbare grey sweater closer to his emaciated body as he jogged outside. Yesterday's heavy rain had been reduced to a chilly breeze that picked up and fell over the course of time. His shoes splattered heavily in the leftover muddy puddles and he leaned against the small fence that decorated the boundaries of the school premises. Just as he expected she tumbled out of the building amongst a group of students not a moment later. He saw her waving to a group of merchant friends before heading for the direction of the bakery, her golden hair twirling around her face as the wind teased it. _

_He heaved a large breath and gulped down the block in his throat. He could do it. It was just like talking to any other person. He would walk to her; say a few words and pick up Prim to walk back home. But he knew it actually wasn't. He was going to talk to the girl that saved his life \and thank her for a debt that could never be repaid. He rubbed his sweaty hands against his pants and held his shoulders a little higher. Really, he hated owing people._

_"I…um…Katniss?" he cleared his throat awkwardly before tapping her lightly on the shoulder. _

_The look on her face as she spotted him could only be described as surprise because her eyes went wide and her mouth formed a little 'o'. She took control of her emotions soon enough and arranged her features in a look he couldn't properly decipher. _

_"Umm…Hi." The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could get a grip over is tongue. His voice came out quiet with additional octaves of awkwardness._

_"Hi." she replied in what she made to pass as a casual manner but he could very well tell otherwise. _

_"I…uh…" he stammered suddenly having no idea what to say. All the words he had been practicing repeatedly through the math lesson felt too idle or silly. His mind had stopped working momentarily and he was left tongue-tied. How do you thank a person who saved your life? You couldn't, that's how._

_He tugged at the too-large sleeve of his sweater in his fingers, twisting the loose threads anxiously. When he dared to look into her eyes, she was looking at him expectantly one of her pale eyebrows slightly quirked. He blew air out of his lungs and decided to give it a shot. Best case scenario, she accepts his apology tells him how to repay his debts and they both live on with their lives. Worst case scenario, she walks away and considers him a complete weirdo for the rest of his existence. _

_"I…uh…just…thank you." The words were rushed and said hastily. He fixed his gaze over a spot above her shoulder, anywhere but her face and forced himself to calm his speech. "I wanted to thank you…for yesterday…I..uh…it meant a lot." He managed to stammer out and wondered why his speaking abilities had been suddenly thrown out the window. By the time he stopped his spluttering his face was flushed and he stared down at his shoes, his eyes picking up odd little details. Like how he spotted a four leaved clover or how there was a tear in his left shoes that wasn't there before and how the rough little pebbles on the ground were so oddly shaped. _

_The silence seemed prolonged and he dared to actually look up she was looking at him with the repeated surprised expression and a look that he could interpret as kindness. Her features had softened and her lips had quirked up from the corners. When she spoke her voice held warmth and none of the stammer that had accompanied his._

_"It was nothing, really. Anyone would have done the same." she told him. He wanted to disagree with her outright because he knew the fault in her statement. No one would have helped him. He had been dragging his feet across the district in vain hopes for almost two desperate days and not a single person had been willing to help. It was because of this that he knew he had to say something. Express his gratitude in some way even if it was just mere words._

_ "If there is anything I could do to repay you…I'll do it." This time his words were met with less hesitation from his part and he found that he had meant every single syllable. He just wanted to repay her in any way that he could so the both of them could forget that this ever happened and move on with their lives. _

_She blushed lightly and looked down obviously embarrassed with the suppressed amount of gratitude between the lines of his statement. "It's okay, it was nothing-"_

_"It was…sometimes a little help means a lot." He cut her off, his eyes slowly daring to look at her face "really, I mean it. You name it and I'll do it, anything." His hands had started playing with the tattered sleeve of his sweater again and he raised one of them to rub the back of his neck._

_Her face got redder, if only. But she still looked at him directly and he couldn't help admire her for that. Her hair blew around her face and she pushed a lock away in frustration. She bit the corner of her lips in contemplation "Peeta…you don't have too… do anything that is."_

_He was a little shocked that she knew his name but he let the fact slide since he knew hers too and they had been in the same classes since almost six years. He pondered arguing with her but he found that he didn't have it in his heart. Nevertheless his seam pride was one thing that would never let go. "Okay. But I owe you. If ever-"_

_This time it was her that cut through his sentence. "I'll tell you, don't worry" She flashed him a smile and he gave her a tiny quirk of his lips. He wasn't too big on smiling. He couldn't even remember the last time he smiled since the mine incident but he felt that he couldn't not return hers. It seemed inexplicably rude then, although the not-smiling was almost a habit. Peeta nodded once gave her an awkward wave of his hand and was about to head off when he saw Prim bounding over to where he stood. His heart swelled at the sight of his sister's beaming face. He had gone too long without seeing it. Prim clutched at his hand and he started to lead her away. _

_"Hello." Prim smiled up at Katniss brightly. Peeta silently cursed her sister's social tendencies because he had no desire to prolong the discomfort that he was causing both himself and Katniss. It wasn't that Katniss wasn't nice, in fact she was much more admirable than the regular merchants but he had never been the social butterfly and talking to merchants was the last thing he wanted to do. If he had a head start he might even be able to venture into the forest for the second time that day. He was already planning another few hours of hunt when he found that his sister had started an animated conversation with the baker girl. For the rest of the fifteen minutes Peeta stood by awkwardly while he watched Prim discussing frosting designs with Katniss._

_When Katniss invited Prim to the bakery the next day, Peeta almost wanted to shout out his disagreement but one look at Prim's eager expression and he knew that he could never deny her anything. Prim was one thing that could waver his will and he constantly berated himself for the weakness. Grudgingly he agreed. Prim squealed excitedly and hugged his legs between her little arms. When he walked home he truly smiled for the first time in months._

Peeta shook himself out of his reverie as the car halted to the stop in front of the train station. The drastic events of the day had resurfaced old memories. He could vividly remember every minute detail from that day. It was the first time he had talked to Katniss and the sight of her had uplifted his hopes. He smiled vaguely at the thought of the little blooming dandelion he had picked up after. In his mind she was still like the dandelion, a little hope amidst the coal covered earth. Whatever he did, he wasn't going to let the dandelion wilt.

The train begun to accelerate and the initial speed took his breath away. Like the car Peeta had never been inside the train before. It was forbidden to travel between the Districts except for official business or for special people like victors or occasionally the mayor. The inside of the train was magnificent to say the least. Effie gave them quick directions which included their own rooms, private bathrooms and dressing areas. He slowly made his way down the narrow hallway adorned with mirrors and antiques into the dinning cart which was lavishly decorated with mahogany tables that held laden baskets of fruits and plates of light appetizers. Effie escorted the two of them into the train lounge where she offered them congratulations and briefly recited the schedule from a tablet like device she held in her hand. Peeta felt like he couldn't concentrate on anything. Effie's words rushed over his head like a wave and everything seemed dulled and blurred. It was only when Effie left the room to get Haymitch that his mind seemed to focus.

All of a sudden Katniss stood up from her seat and he stood up as well. For a moment the room was eerily quiet as they stared at each other before Katniss was shouting at him,

"What did you think you were doing? She yelled with a hitch in her high-pitched voice. "Did you completely lose your mind?"

She continued the course of the shouts and her voice rose higher with each cry and insult she threw at him until; her breath was heaving and traitorous tears glistened atop her eyes. Then she was hitting him, slamming her closed fists against his chest, all the time screaming obscenities. Her voice was mingled with tears but she daren't let a single fall. He stood there noiselessly and waited for her to let it all out. When she seemed like she had exhausted her reserves of energy she let her hands fall limp besides her and chose to glare at the ground instead. For the second time that day he wrapped his arms around her and molded her framed against his.

They stood there for a few moments while Peeta gently twirled the bottom of her braid in his fingers and planted a light kiss atop her head. She sniffed a few times and when they finally drew apart she was once again in full control over her emotions. He caught the sight of the Mockingjay pin she had previously gifted to Prim pinned crookedly to her chest. The pin surprisingly reminded him of his father. Seldom, in the deep confines of the forest his father would sing a little tune or hymn in his soft voice and he watched with silent wonder as the Mockingjays reverberated the sound. Instead of questioning, he straightened the pin so the Mockingjay's beak pointed in the right direction. She eyed his movements.

"I told Prim to keep it but she gave it back." Her voice was light as she fingered the glittering pin "I hear the tributes are allowed a token."

He nodded mutely, "I wish I had brought a reminder from home." He immediately regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth as Katniss's face transformed into a scowl. He hastily turned to change the subject and grabbed her hand, "Come on, I think that's Effie."

Not a moment too soon, Effie re-entered the cart, huffing under her breath and wearing an absolutely miffed expression. If she had stomped her feet with a little more force, she would have without a doubt, tumbled to the floor all in her capitol glory. She stopped short when she saw his and Katniss's interlinked hands and her eyes widened just a little. Beside him Katniss blushed lightly. He barely contained his smile at seeing her flushed face and swung their hands around just for extra measure. Effie seemed a little quiet so he coughed loudly and spoke

"Where's Haymitch?"

Effie was startled from her trance and looked a tad embarrassed at being caught staring. She straightened up her posture and ran a hand to fix the ruffled up feathers of her dress. Thankfully, by now she had straightened her atrociously blaring wig.

"Drank himself raw, that old hag. Why I had been knocking on the door for almost five minutes before he decided to show up." Effie huffed loudly. "He'll be at lunch, probably needs more alcohol by now."

While Effie had her little tantrum Peeta and Katniss shared a small smile behind their backs. There was supposedly a rumor flying about since the last games concerning Haymitch and their currently very annoyed escort. After all anger was one of the most common ways to show affection.

"Time for lunch!" Effie announced.

They made their way to the dinning cart and Peeta's mouth watered at just seeing the mere amount of delicacies' that sat leisurely on the table that had been set up for four. There were steaming pots of gravies and an assortment of stews sprinkled with bright spices and herbs and paired nicely with salads. On the other side were placed dishes that raged from rice to steamed chicken and other sweltering bowls whose content he couldn't recognize. Katniss was currently admiring the three different kinds of bread that sat in one corner of the table and as the both of them took their place beside each other it, the buttered rolls were the first thing she grabbed. Peeta loaded his plate with far more amount of food that he could possibly digest. It seemed impossibly long ago that he had sat with Prim and his mother eating the bread with strawberries. And they had never had food like this, so much and so good. Katniss too was eating at a much faster pace but was still slightly behind Peeta who was much likely inhaling the food.

"At least you two have good manners." Effie interjected as Peeta silently scooped the last remains of tomato and garlic gravy from his plate. "The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion"

The kids from last year were both from the seam who probably never had enough to eat in their whole life. Peeta's mother had thought him table manners and Katniss was the baker's daughter, it was guaranteed. But the seam kids would have fervently grabbed nay food on which they laid sights on, table manners or not. Peeta felt so annoyed with Effie's comment that he made a point to lick his plate clean with his fingers and then wipe his hands against the table cloth. Katniss's lip twitched in a barely concealed smile while Effie pursed hers together tightly.

After a few minutes of rabid eating Haymitch stumbled into the room, placing a hand against the adjacent wall to steady himself. He slid into the seat next to Effie who scrunched her nose and discreetly edged away. For a moment Peeta thought that Haymitch might actually consider drinking orange juice before he was proved wrong when Haymitch pulled out a small flask from inside his waistcoat and tipped its mouth over the rim of the glass containing the orange liquid. He took a long swing from his glass almost downing half of it in one gulp before slamming it roughly on top of the table. Peeta saw Katniss's eyes narrow slightly.

"So you're our mentor." She said in a casual manner but he detected the slight annoyance in her voice.

Haymitch looked up at being addressed before he continued to gobble up the chicken leg he had grabbed in his hand. This time Peeta's eyes narrowed too, mirroring Katniss's expression.

"So you got any advice for us?" he asked, subtly prepping up a conversation.

Haymitch glanced up from his food again and gave them a look that suggested that they had suddenly grown bullhorns. He swallowed and then scoffed at them, jerking his head in a manner that suggested ridicule.

"Yeah I've got advice for you." He took another gulp of the alcoholic orange juice. "Stay alive."

Haymitch let out a bark of laughter, pleased at his own joke but Peeta felt a huge burst of irritation quickly bubbling up inside of him. Here they were, waiting to be thrown into an arena in a fight to death and all this man had to offer was some kind of drunken jibe. Peeta had a hard time believing how Haymitch had survived his Games. The only thing that Haymitch looked capable of doing right now was snoring in his own vomit. That was part of the reason tributes from Twelve would never win. Haymitch would never be coherent throughout the games to even bargain them a sponsor. Peeta suddenly lashed out at the glass in Haymitch's hands in his anger. It shattered to the ground in small shards with the orange liquid running over the tiles.

"That's extremely witty." He retorted. "But unfortunately, I don't have a sense of humor."

Haymitch considered Peeta's words before punching him square in the jaw. The blow was unexpected and it sent him rocking painfully, in the back of his chair. Peeta balanced himself back up almost instantaneously, his anger boiling precariously on the surface when he saw Haymitch reach for another bottle of spirit. This time it was Katniss that drove a knife between his fingers, barely missing the flesh by an inch. Her eyes glinted with rage and she plucked the knife out of the dented table forcefully glaring at Haymitch. His own anger masked his face. Effie watched the spectacle in shock, blubbering incoherently about table manners.

Haymitch didn't seem to react at either of their glares but instead studied the both of them intently. He squinted before titling his head to one side. "What's this?" he asked "Do I actually have a couple of fighters this year?"

None of them responded and Haymitch continued to study them fixedly. He turned to Katniss, "Fancy killing something with that knife other than a placemat?" he asked.

Katniss locked eyes with Peeta and he gave her an almost indistinguishable nod of his head. She gripped the handle of her knife tightly in her right hand until her knuckles turned white, took careful aim and threw the knife at the opposite wall. The knife swung in mid air before it lodged itself squarely in the middle of the wooden panel that ran alongside the wall, making her look even better than she actually was. Peeta passed her a small grin. This was her first step out of the arena. You can't impress the crowd unless you impress your mentor.

Haymitch muttered something inaudible under his breath and turned his attention towards Peeta. Peeta could practically see the gears churning in Haymitch's head before a sudden emotion registered upon his face. Peeta took it as recognition. He knew that Haymitch recognized him from the Hob and probably knew that Peeta was an archer. He suddenly stood up.

"Get up." he commanded. "Both of you."

Both Peeta and Katniss obeyed and walked over to the middle of the room. Haymitch then proceeded to circle them, occasionally murmuring under his breath. He poked and prodded them, checked their muscles and closely examined their faces to the point where it made Peeta want to flinch. He then backed away with a look of contemplation on his face and folded his arms over his chest.

"You're fit enough." Haymitch concluded. "Not particularly frail like the rest of the seam." He continued; this particular comment directed at Peeta. Haymitch then reverted his attention back to Katniss and spoke, "And you sweetheart, got a bit more muscle than the rest of them. That'll be fair advantage."

Katniss scowled at the faux term of endearment but otherwise retained her position. Haymitch's point was correct too. Katniss had grown up in the bakery where she had learned to lift small loads and eventually heavier ones. This had given her a slight edge added with the combined fact that she had a healthier diet than most of the seam kids even though it usually consisted of stale bread that the bakery had failed to sell. Peeta had also occasionally taken her to the woods. This was where she had learned to throw a decent shot with the knife, after giving up on archery lessons before even an hour was up.

_Katniss groaned again before huffing irritably and plopping herself atop the bearded roots of an old pine. _

_"This is useless." She said heatedly and wrenched out some weeds that grew on the ground beside where she sat. _

_"Oh, c'mon Katniss. You've barely been at this for an hour." Peeta said as he joined her on the ground and tried to make her accept the long bow he held in his hands. "If it's any consolation, it took me weeks to actually shoot a squirrel and even then on the stomach."_

_Katniss brought her knees to her face, placed her arms around her legs and promptly buried her head between her knees. "I know. It's just….this doesn't feel right." She informed Peeta with a muffled voice. "Archery isn't for me. I just know."_

_Peeta shook his head before noticing that she couldn't see him anyway. "Katniss" he spoke "you'll get better eventually. You haven't even properly tried." He protested._

_Peeta's argument turned out to be of no avail. Katniss continued to ignore his persistent protests and instead repeated her words constantly. The bow and arrow had not been made for her hands and she was aware of the obvious fact. The bow felt awkward in her fingers and too long for her height. She had difficulty in even notching the arrow properly against the bow much less actually taking a shot. Her hands were unstable and she couldn't decide which one of her eyes enabled her to focus better. This was the first time Peeta had seen her hands wobble. They were the same hands that swiftly cut through loafs of bread and that designed perfect intricate patterns on top of cakes without a hitch._

_Katniss groaned again before lifting her face and setting it atop her knees. "Well, there goes our plan." She said gazing at the trees. "If I ever get reaped, I'm screwed." _

_One day out of the bloom as the reaping approached, Katniss had commented on how, if he ever got reaped, he would at least have a decent chance of surviving provided that the cornucopia had a bow. If it was her by any chance, she would probably blow herself up by jumping of the platform before the gong even rang. Katniss had meant it as a joke but Peeta had taken the comment to heart and persuaded her to learn how to shoot. There they were the next day, already with disastrous results. _

_"Well all hope's not lost." Peeta tried to heighten her spirit. He rummaged through his game bag and pulled out the knife he used to skin his game. He cleaned the knife of dried blood against his pants before he handed it to her. She would be more familiar with the knife having used it around the bakery for a long time. "Try this."_

_Katniss eyed the knife warily before taking it from his hands. She gave him a shrug before she threw the knife aimlessly at the nearest tree. To both their astonishment the blade sank into the bark with its handle lodged out. They looked at each other with wide eyes and grinned. _

"You'll both be attractive enough. Once the stylists have gotten hold of you." Haymitch concluded his observations. Neither Peeta nor Katniss questioned the last statement. It was a well known fact that the best looking tributes got the best sponsors. "And well, you'll already be in the spotlight. With the drama you put up today."

The both of them exchanged an uncertain look not sure how to interpret Haymitch's last comment. How would the Capitol interpret their exchange? By Effie's reaction Peeta guessed that they would be intrigued if not curious to learn their story. But would the attention be enough to warrant Katniss a pass out of the arena?

They decided not to comment and instead made a deal with Haymitch. They wouldn't interfere with his drinking and he would stay sober enough to coach them. This suited Peeta just fine, as long as Haymitch was there when he was needed. He had to admit that although Haymitch was useless most of the time he had to have some qualities that had enabled him to win his own games. He would have let his skills tarnish but experience and clever was vital and something that couldn't be lost over the years. Peeta hadn't seen them but he had heard that Haymitch's games had been quiet a spectacle themselves.

As both Haymitch and Effie had predicted, District Twelve was the talk of the evening as commentators with atrocious accents speculated on the nature of connection of the two tributes. Two horridly dressed women discussed the attributes of all the tributes commenting on their traits that raged from their looks to their physique, age and the judging their ability by appearance. The shorter women of the two gushed on about how the district twelve tributes were so mysterious this year and how she couldn't actually wait for the interviews! Peeta had a hard time looking at her face. Her lips were charcoal black both her eyes were outlined with studs. Her features looked altered and she gave out a wave of unnatural.

They waited for a few more minutes before they started showing the recap of the reapings. As per usual the reapings from Districts One, Two and Four compromised solely on heavy volunteering. More from One and Two than from Four. The Careers appeared the same with heavy builds, able bodies and proud attitudes. Shouting and jeering in front of the screaming crowds as Effie Trinket replicas tried to control the mayhem. Peeta concentrated on their appearance, thoroughly judging his competition. The males from One and Two were particularly buff with their structures practically shouting the evident years of training. The girls were smaller compared to the guys but still had at least a foot on Katniss in height and almost ten more pounds in muscle. As the reapings proceeded none of the other tributes particularly caught his attention and he soon had difficulty in recalling even a few names. He thought that the girl from five looked a little sly and felt a pang of pity for the crippled boy from ten which was an emotion that was mostly foreign to him.

It wasn't till the girl from Eleven walked up to the stage did he feel like his breath being knocked out of his lungs. She was little to say the least with dark skin and frizzy hair. She had a frail and petite structure with her body constructed like a bird positioned for flight. She was twelve but she hardly looked her age. She reminded Peeta so much of Prim that he had to constantly remind himself that she wasn't his sister and was a stranger from Eleven who would probably be slaughtered in the bloodbath before the games even properly begun. At least Peeta wouldn't have to kill her then. Beside him on the couch, Katniss tensed up and reached to put a comforting hand on his knee. Unlike the rest of the tributes Peeta remembered the girls name clearly. She was named Rue, after a plant just like Katniss and Prim. Rue's district partner was almost Career worthy with a robust, broad shouldered and muscular built and Peeta mentally jotted him down amongst his mental list of competition.

The tension in the room was pungent as the District Twelve reaping started up. Effie groaned about loudly when she saw the disarray that was her hair and complained about how she had finally wanted to be better dressed than the District Seven escort. Peeta sat upright in his seat as he saw Prim's name being called and had to remind himself that his sister wasn't here right now, although he did regret his reaction upon her name being called. He cringed and looked away as his own hoarse cries were replicated through the screen. When he looked up again he saw himself volunteering and felt minute satisfaction at seeing his emotionless mask back up. Unfortunately the scene where he had hugged Katniss was also fully displayed on national television.

Immediately the reporters were back on.

"My, my, Glaze did you see District twelve this year? Something fishy is surely cooking." The short plump commentator said to the women to her right. Her voice was high pitched and overly enthusiastic.

Glaze promptly responded. "I can almost smell it all the way to the Capitol!" the two women laughed before Glaze continued.

"And two volunteers! From the same day! This day is going down in history ladies and gentlemen."

Peeta tried his best to tune out the rest of the blabber but his mind caught on to the end of the conversation anyway.

"And the hug!" The shorter women gushed out. "I don't know how they are related but I can tell you this folks, these two certainly aren't strangers and certainly not siblings for that matter." She winked blatantly at the screen. The meaning behind her words was heavily implied.

Once again Peeta fought the urge to flinch and turned his attention to Haymitch to notice his reaction. Haymitch looked skeptical, tapping his fingers against his leg while staring off into space but a few minutes passed and he didn't share any views. Not moments later Effie stood up and clapped her hands loudly.

"Time for bed everyone. We have a busy schedule tomorrow!" she said.

Effie trotted off with her heels clanking loudly and Haymitch was quick to follow muttering something that sounded like 'I need a drink' under his breath. Peeta and Katniss remained sitting in their positions and as the cart emptied they both turned around to face each other.

"Well, we are in a right mess, aren't we?" Katniss asked with a loud sigh and leaned her head against his shoulder.

He shrugged lightly. "Yeah, you could say that."

The two of them remained quiet after that, silently sharing each other's company. Out the window the world passed by in a blur, visible through the faint wisps of moonlight. He shifted in his seat to wrap an arm around her waist and she snuggled deeper into his side, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He inhaled deeply in her scent and closed his eyes, tiredly. It was only then when he had almost drifted off that Katniss reluctantly stood up with her mouth opening in a huge yawn and led them both to their separate bedrooms after kissing him goodnight.

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**So that's it, until next time :D**

**Guys, I really need your help in something, though. I have a lot of problem with writing dialogue that doesn't seem too awkward or something. I really need you to tell me how I did in this chapter because it had comparatively more dialogue than the other chapters. I still think it was a little awkward though. Tell me what should I do to improve my dialogue or whether you find it okay. English isn't my first language so its kinda harder for me.**

**The song is Radioactive by Imagine Dragons (I just love them okay?)**

**Oh! and guys I need a song that fits the tribute parade. Nothing seems to fit! Help? c:**

**(no I will not use Girl on Fire by Alicia Keys since that chapter is in Peeta's point of view and that would be awkward.) **

**The sneak peak from the next chapter!:**

"What?" he said defensively, rubbing the back of his neck.

She smirked lightly, "You clean up nice."

"You don't do to bad yourself." He informed her in reply, feeling pleased at her compliment.

**ciao! c:**

**~EG**


	5. Chapter 4

**Hello my peeps! Yes I know I'm a little late but I was on a tiny three day vacation to a beautiful place called Nathia-Gali in my country and this chapter needed some tweaking ;) Anyway here you go another chapter :'D**

**Disclaimer: I'll own The Hunger Games when Katniss Everdeen isn't emotionally conflicted. Enough said. **

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****Chapter 4

Peeta

_You just gotta ignite the light and let it shine_

_Just own the night _

_Like the 4th of July _

_Cause baby you're a firework._

* * *

Peeta was woken up by short, sharp raps against the door of his room. He groaned loudly and dug even deeper into the plush Capitol bed. It was fancier than anything he had ever slept on and although he had a habit to wake up early for his hunt he still felt the last tendrils of sleep clinging to his mind. The day before had been physically and emotionally exhausting for him. Peeta reluctantly got out of bed and wasted almost half an hour trying to work the shower. There were at least a dozen buttons scattered around that indicated different varieties of soaps, oils, fragrances and other things he didn't understand. The hot water was relaxing and he felt the muscles of his body unwind as the water flowed down his torso. He spent an extra fifteen minutes in the bath just because it was the first time he had taken a shower and had an abundance of hot water at his disposal. Once he felt his fingers go prune he walked out of the shower and selected a simplest shirt he could find in the horde of clothes stacked in the closet. He donned the forest green button-down shirt and a pair of black slacks and unhurriedly made his way to the dinning cart.

Everyone else was already seated. He threw around a few good mornings and took his seat beside Katniss. She had changed her reaping dress and instead wore a green pleated blouse and jeans. He knew she was far more comfortable in this kind of attire as compared to dresses.

"We match." He said as a way of a morning greeting.

She looked down and noticed what she was wearing and then what he was wearing and smiled into the piece of toast that she was about to put in her mouth.

The breakfast was increasingly lavish but he had learnt his lesson from yesterday and ate his food with caution. Katniss had `grabbed a buttered roll and was dipping it in some kind of brown liquid before taking a bite. She noticed him looking.

"That's called hot chocolate." she said motioning towards the cup containing the brown liquid. "It's good. Try it."

Instead for asking for a cup from the attendant that stood by the door, Peeta grabbed Katniss's cup and took a sip, much to her chagrin. He sipped the warm and thick liquid and immediately fell in love with it. The milk and the chocolate blended together perfectly and melted into his mouth into a mouth-watering mixture. Peeta swore it was heaven in a cup. He took another sip almost draining half the mug. Katniss scowled at him and made a dive for the hot chocolate but he had anticipated the move. He moved the cup out of her reach quickly and gave her a tiny smirk which only made her more determined. They continued their silent war for the mug until an attendant placed two new cups of steaming cocoa in front of them. Katniss blushed, obviously embarrassed that everyone else had witnessed their childish antics while Peeta hid his grin inside the new cup he had just grabbed. Across from them Haymitch and Effie silently watched the exchange.

It was Effie that broke the silence. "Oh how _cute_! I'm the sure the Capitol will just fall in love with you two. So sweet." She sighed dreamily which made Katniss blush even harder and resume her eating. Peeta followed her example. He wasn't sure whether or not he wanted the Capitol to fall in love with either of them. Right now he was leaning towards the 'not'.

As they cleared the plates Effie announced that they would be arriving in the Capitol shortly and strutted away to reapply her makeup. Although he had eaten with caution he still felt queasy when he thought about the Capitol and the little remainder of his life left. District Twelve was poles apart from the Capitol and every mile from home brought about a new wave of apprehension. The only comfort he had was that Katniss was seated beside him and hopefully she would be there till the end.

Haymitch looked to be half dozing, half eating seated opposite Peeta and Peeta diverted his attention back to their prestigious mentor. Haymitch still retained his ragged appearance which Peeta knew would never go away and his eyes seemed a little bloodshot. He was intoxicated but barely which left Peeta wondering what he was up to the whole night since, judging from his appearance he obviously wasn't asleep. Peeta dusted the last remains of crumbs from his hands and decided to address him.

"Let's try again." said Peeta. "So you've got any advice for us?"

Katniss looked up expectantly at Haymitch but Haymitch continued to nibble on the piece of dried bread he had just picked up. After a few agonizing seconds in which Peeta debated throwing an apple at Haymitch, their mentor decided to speak up.

"Yeah. When you step out of the train, keep that damn scowl of your face." Haymitch replied with a snarl, without looking up from his food. Peeta fought the urge to further deepen his frown. He threw a traitorous look at Katniss who seemed to be fighting of a smirk at Haymitch's words. She herself had told him the same thing almost thrice a week.

"After we arrive, you're gonna be taken up to your stylists. You may not like what they do to you but do not under any circumstances protest or you'll be coal miners again this year." Haymitch continued and Peeta winced mentally. He did not like the sound of that even a little bit. But he decided to go by Haymitch's advice because if there was anything worse than regularly dressed Capitol people it was the stylists.

"At least coal miners is better than being covered in coal." Katniss grumbled sarcastically.

"I wouldn't say so, sweetheart." Haymitch replied. Peeta should've known. The more the skin the better.

All of a sudden the cart darkened to a pitch black as the train passed through a tunnel. Peeta took a deep breath. Ever since the mine accident that took his father Peeta hated dark and enclosed spaces and had developed a mildly severe case of claustrophobia. He felt like the tunnel was going to collapse on them any second burying the train and its contents deep in the rubble. The nightmares featuring crumbling mountains and suffocating darkness were frequent in his nights.

Thankfully the dark only lasted about half a minute and as the train emerged through the tunnel sunlight spilled back into the cart. Peeta tried to resist the urge but he rushed to the windows beside Katniss and looked through to the new world presented outside. As he observed the view he let out a deep breath. Really, the television hadn't done it justice. The city was spread as wide as Peeta could see with diverging varieties of buildings, columns and skyscrapers. Glass buildings stood majestically under the blue sky as road and flyovers winded between the settings into a rich network. The artistic structures could be plainly admired from afar along with ponds and pools that complimented the buildings. On one side were rows upon rows of mammoth houses with polished surfaces and gleaming windows. The colors were everywhere. Bright shades and hues of red, orange and green. From the bright yellow taxis to vast billboards along the crowded streets. People dressed in luxurious furs and leathers strolled around covered in excess makeup and talking in high pitched voices. The railway track materialized right into the city and as their train emerged from the tunnel, heads turned all around to gaze at the tribute train.

People sighted them at the windows and immediately started waving, shouting and pointing at them. Their reaction was so surprising for Peeta that for a moment he stood there absolutely stunned. He was about to back away when Katniss caught his wrist.

"Act nice. Who knows one of them might be rich." she said, with her eyes still trained to the outside world. He watched as she raised her hand and waved at the Capitol people while giving them a bashful smile.

He momentarily wondered at her genius before he too raised his hand in an awkward wave. He was sure that his smile was coming out more like a grimace. He didn't know how to smile for these people. They would be cheering and betting while he would be playing for his life. He didn't think that he could ever smile for these sadistic people but he tried only for Katniss's sake. At his wave their reaction was instantaneous. The shouts grew as well as the cheers and faintly he could hear the sound of people yelling their names through the sealed windows. The fact alone that anyone from the Capitol had even bothered to memorize the names of the District Twelve tributes was astounding.

The crowd was a complete havoc as Effie leaded him and Katniss onto the train station. Reporters threw microphones at their faces and bright flashes of cameras blinded his eyes. People jostled around and bumped into him until he had to struggle to remain upright. In a wild moment of panic in the unfamiliar environment he grabbed Katniss's hand. The familiar feel of her palm clutched in his hand comforted and steadied him. In all the disorder and confusion she was his rock tethering him to reality. Her grip on his fingers was likewise, tight and secure.

The crowd thinned out as they approached the cars but reporters still shouted and demanded answers of questions that made him uneasy.

"Peeta! Peeta tell us, what is the mystery behind your and Katniss's relation?"

"How proud are you to be representing District Twelve this year?"

"What was the real reason you volunteered, Peeta?"

The questions were idle, none of which he chose to answer but all these alien people suddenly taking interest in him perturbed him. He could visibly feel Katniss's and his own postures relax as they slid into the car that carried them to the Remake Center where they would be dressed for the Opening Ceremony the following night. As he stepped into the building Peeta barely had the time to observe his surroundings before he was whisked away by attendants with Katniss going the opposite direction. He gave her a panicked look and she passed him what he made out to be a comforting glance.

The experience was not pleasant to say the least. His prep team consisted of three members. Aurora was a small stout woman that looked to be in her early twenties with wavy electric blue hair and a bronze skin that was accented with small amounts of gold. Her eyelashes matched her hair and were dusted with glitter so that little flakes fell to her cheeks when she blinked. Her long nails actually felt scary as she worked on him and the wide assortment of bangles on her wrist jingled obnoxiously. She was accompanied by two men Trace and Frey. Trace's outlandish gold tattoos stood out, heavily decorating both his arms and his silver hair were curled fashionably into ringlets while Frey's purple eyes and matching eyeshades startled Peeta so much he struggled to let the surprise so on his face. Together the three of them were the representation of picturesque Capitol citizens.

They chatted away happily as they worked on him while Peeta struggled to contain his wince during the entire process. They shaved his face and ripped the hair out from his arms and legs thankfully leaving the rest of his body alone. Frey tusked loudly as he trimmed Peeta's hair and conditioned it with whatever oil he was using and Trace exclaimed how the first process was always the longest.

"You Peeta are going to be a looker when we are done with you." Aurora informed him as she scrounged out the dirt from underneath his nails. He felt uncomfortable at her comment and chose not to reply instead nodding his head in what was supposed to be an enthusiastic manner.

From behind him, Frey nodded in agreement. "And the boy has good manners. I swear the whiners are always the worst." He said dramatically, drawling out the last part of the sentence.

"Remember that boy from last year?" Trace joined the conversation while he reapplied a fresh coat of lipstick. "If we had to spend one more hour with _that_, I would've killed him myself."

Peeta gritted his teeth in annoyance and only talked when he was supposed to. He admitted the team was irritating but he found out that it was more because of general ignorance than arrogance or self importance. These people actually didn't have an idea what life was like in the Districts and they seemed to be genuinely trying to help him. So when they started to leave Peeta thanked them profusely, overdoing himself and imitated the wide grin Katniss had given the audience previously. He only wished that the team was as thick as Peeta had made them out to be.

Peeta was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief as his prep team exited the room leaving him behind to wait for his stylist. He looked at himself at the various mirrors adorned along the walls. He looked a little different but not much. His face was shaved clean and his hair was cut a little short out of its usual state of disarray. His skin looked clean and pink from all the scrubbing and oddly smooth which he figured was the result of the various oils and soaps that his body had just been smothered with. His nails had been polished clean and the little circles under his eyes were gone due to the minimal amounts of makeup that had been applied under them. The prep team had wanted to do more but had apparently gotten strict orders from his stylist not to stifle him with any makeup at all. To say that he was glad was an understatement.

The doors opened again and another woman entered into the room who he presumed to be his stylist. His initial reaction to her was that one of shock because well, she looked … _normal_. She had light caramel colored skin and ebony hair that was stuck up in a tight ponytail at the back of her head. She was tall, almost two or three inches shorter than him and was dressed in a black shirt under a similar black leather jacket and knee-length tights. The only odd thing about her appearance was a tattoo of curled tips of a flame that drifted up through the neck of her shirt with little wafts of tattooed smoke disappearing behind the curve of her neck.

She smiled at him brightly and held out a hand making him startle, "I'm Portia, your stylist. And you must be Peeta."

He nodded and took the offered hand. "Hi."

"You look a little-" he started to say but stopped himself mid-sentence, not exactly sure what he wanted to say or whether he was allowed to say what he wanted to at all.

"-normal" she completed the sentence with a nod of her head and a twinkle in her hazel eyes. "Enjoy it, it's a rare treat" she said with a wink.

"I was about to say different but normal works too." He shrugged. Her lips twitched in a barely concealed smile but she chose to ignore the comment.

"Just give me a moment." she said, instead. He noticed that her voice was only thinly veiled with the Capitol accent as she started to move around him in a circle like Haymitch had done previously. The fact left him wondering and intrigued.

She observed his form curiously and closely from all directions slowly moving around him and occasionally moving an arm or taking a measurement from the tape she held in her hand. Her face held a contemplative look as if deciding what would look best on him. She then placed a finger under his chin moving his face from right to left as she examined his profile. She moved back again and nodded satisfactorily.

"You seem workable." she said and handed him a robe which he promptly slipped on, a little relieved.

"Are you new?" he inquired in reply "Because I haven't seen you in the past games."

Some of the stylists the Games employed had been there for so long that he had managed to memorize their faces and even some of their names albeit with a lot of mental protests. He was almost sure that he would have noticed her before because as normal as she looked she would have stood out plainly in the Capitol crowd.

"Yes." Portia replied. "This is my first year."

"So you got District Twelve?" he asked in a defensive tone. It was a known fact really. All starters got District Twelve and as they progressed they would move up a District. The same was the case with the District escorts.

"No." she looked at him with a glint in her eyes that greatly muddled him. "My partner Cinna and I asked for District Twelve."

He didn't know how to interpret her comment. Why she or her partner would choose District Twelve was beyond him but if they were actually doing it willingly who was he to protest? Besides it wasn't like any of the stylists actually had innovation. He had seen the same designs repeated so many times over the years that he had almost begun to anticipate the nature of the costumes of each individual district. He was willing to bet that District Seven were going as Oaks this years because Willow trees were so last year.

Portia led him to another room where they were served with lunch. He ate a measurable amount although he knew that sooner or later he would probably be sick from the amount of rich food he had eaten alone in the past day. He was well aware of the fact that his stomach was not at all accustomed to the richness of the food provided having lived on hard bread and meat almost his whole life. At least Portia was a smart enough person to carry a decent conversation and seemed to actually understand his plight, from what he had judged. None of which could be said about his prep team or Effie for that matter.

Even so, when she asked Peeta to tell her a little about himself he was at a complete lost to what to say.

"Uhh… I'm sixteen. I live with my mother and my little sister in the seam…" He stumbled over his words. It was the first time someone had asked him to introduce himself. He wasn't even sure what kind of information passed as an introduction. He racked his brain trying to figure out something to say but every bit he came across seemed to personal for disclosure. Thankfully Portia sensed his apprehension and asked him something else.

"Your sister. She's the one who was reaped, I'm correct?" Portia asked lightly. He could see the honest curiosity behind her features.

"Yeah, she's the one." He nodded, not sure how else to reply.

"And she's really important to you, I take it?" said Portia.

Peeta didn't even need to blink before answering the question. "Yes. She really is." he said, before taking a wild leap of trust and adding. "I can't even imagine her being here right now."

Portia only nodded her head understandingly. She emanated a comfortable and easy going atmosphere and slowly, with every word he started to feel more comfortable in her presence. He hadn't decided yet whether the fact amounted more to the good side than the bad. After a short silence and a moment of contemplation, Portia questioned him again.

"And Katniss, your fellow tribute." she said. "She means something too, I suppose?"

Peeta snorted and said in a dismissive sort of manner. "More than you think."

Portia gave him a slight grin at his answer and her eyes held a knowing glint. Portia seemed nice but he wasn't going to just unload her with his hunting trips and sob story. Even back in District Twelve he had been known to be a bit reclusive. Until he had met Katniss and Gale he usually inhabited the lone table that sat in the far corner of the cafeteria or spent his classes gazing out the windows while the teacher drawled out words that spun lazily around his brain before slipping out his ears. Although Portia emitted a rare friendly vibe he felt wary of her because she was in heritage, a pure Capitol citizen and if he had learnt anything it was that she was stranger than the usual ones.

"What's the seam?" she asked.

"It's our part of the District, near the mines" said Peeta, for once being comfortable with the topic in discussion. "And speaking of mines are we going to be coal miners again this year?"

To Peeta's surprise Portia only laughed. She shook her head at him amusedly her lips stretched in a wide grin "You don't give me enough credit Peeta."

The devilish look on her face was enough to arouse his suspicion but she had already abandoned her seat and was rummaging through the wardrobe that was placed in the far corner of the room. After a while she let out a small "oh, here it is" and turned around successfully holding something that was covered in a black garment bag. Her grin was still intact when she faced him and said,

"How do you feel about fire, Peeta?"

Peeta stood a little away from everyone else and focused on admiring his surroundings. The opening ceremony was about to start in a few minutes. All around tributes and stylists talked and mingled. The costumes everywhere were outrageous to say the least and he prayed that he himself did not look like the others although he had just seen himself in a mirror in the Remake Center. He was dressed in a stark yet glimmering black unitard that made his shoulders appear broader with boots that came up to his calves, a cape that he had already tripped over twice and a headdress which felt itchy and ridiculous over his head. He had a manic urge to throw it off but Portia had assured him that she knew what she was doing and it would not appear half as outlandish when lit up. _Lit up_. That was the idea, basically. She was literally going to set him on fire. In all honesty Peeta had never thought that he would die even before entering the arena.

He breathed a sigh of relief when Katniss walked out followed by an ordinary yet good looking man that Peeta immediately pinned as Portia's partner. Katniss wore almost identical clothes to Peeta. A shimmering black unitard, boots that came to her knees instead of calves and an assorted headdress over her typically braided hairstyle that was intertwined with little strands of gold that brought out the honey color of her hair. He was a little surprised that her stylist had let her keep the braid and a little pleased. Her hairstyle made Katniss look more like herself. He own cape billowed behind her feet and unlike Peeta, Katniss wore some makeup though negligible in comparison to the Career tributes. Her eyes looked drawn out and icy blue instead of their usual sapphire because of the eccentric and pale eye-colors. Her lips had an unusual pinkish tint. The unitard outlined her body perfectly and he tried to not to let his eyes linger too long.

She walked over to him immediately and introduced Cinna who after some small talk, walked away for some final arrangements. Katniss took the time to look at Peeta and he immediately felt conscious of himself. It was ironic really, that he wouldn't have cared to have himself seen covered in dirt and sweat but felt awkward looking clean and dressed up. Katniss's scrutinizing gaze was driving him crazy and he finally broke the silence.

"What?" he said defensively, rubbing the back of his neck.

She smirked lightly, "You clean up nice."

"You don't do to bad yourself." He informed her in reply, feeling pleased at her compliment. Back at Twelve they usually didn't have reason to dress up and the most he had ever done was to wear a clean, new shirt at a reaping only to discard it later anyway. Though it couldn't be said about Katniss. He personally thought that she would look good wearing a paper bag although he did prefer her in her bakery uniform looking all flushed and adorable.

Peeta spotted Cinna making his way back holding a lightened torch in his hands and he stiffened a little. He nudged Katniss with his elbow nodding a head in Cinna's direction,

"How do you feel about that?" he asked

She wasn't looking at him but replied, "I'll take of your cape if you take of mine."

"Deal."

He clenched his fists as Cinna touched his cape with the tip of the blue flame but instead of the heat he was expecting he was met with a tingling sensation that seeped through his body and made him shiver. Besides him Katniss wore a similar baffled expression that soon turned into a determined smile.

"Let's do this." she said.

Cinna let out a relieved sigh and said, "Remember chins up, smiles on. They're going to love you!"

They climbed onto their chariot which was being pulled by two coal colored horses as Cinna backed away. All around people had already started staring at them which for the first time gave him some internal satisfaction. He spotted the District Two tributes scowling at them, both wearing armor like dresses that had probably caused their stylists a great amount of tension. To their aggravation, Peeta smirked at them causing their scowls to deepen. He already despised the likes of them and frankly couldn't care less. One by one the chariots started moving in ascending order from One to Twelve making Peeta and Katniss the last to emerge. Just as their chariot jolted into motion he spotted Cinna signaling at him and Peeta abided by his suggestion though a little confused. He took Katniss's hand and firmly grasped it in his.

The crowd was undeniably wild as the tribute chariots galloped through but he could easily spot the increase in volume as the citizens first spotted the District Twelve chariot. The spotlights blinded him for a seconds but he maintained his sight quickly enough to retain his balance. His ears were bombarded with music, screams, shouts and people chanting his and Katniss's name all of which made him dizzy and lightheaded. He felt a tug of anxiousness at his gut as he observed the crowd, so much bigger than he had ever seen. He saw Katniss life her hand in a wave giving the people a wide smile and he swore the crowd went irrefutably crazy. He felt a small pull on his hand and he knew she wanted him to do the same.

Peeta followed her example, waving and smiling though he was in no way as good as her. After a few seconds he got a hang of it and he even caught a rose somebody from the crowd had thrown at them. He made a great show of presenting the rose to Katniss who visibly laughed and accepted it, sniffing and turning the rose between her fingers before throwing it back at the crowd. The cheers were growing louder by the seconds and an audible chant had started amongst the crowd which consisted of both their names. People showered them with flowers, shouting admirations and extending hands from the sidelines towards them. As they accelerated he caught their imitations looking back from large screens that hung at regular interval and his breath caught in his throat.

They looked stunning, there was no questioning it. Shimmering orange flames rose up majestically behind them enamoring them in a brilliant glow from all sides. Flickering fires tickled their faces casting them under an orange-y glow that looked like halos over their heads. The light brought out his eyes and cheek bones making him look older and fiercer while the fire against Katniss's blond hair made it look like it was on fire too. Her face held a confident smile and her makeup enhanced her features perfectly, drawing attention to the illumination that shown upon her face. They both burned magnificently under the dark sky and for the first time Peeta felt confident and in control. They weren't beautiful or radiant, they burned as bright as the sun.

It was then that their eyes met for a split second and together they both raised their clasped hands into the air and the spectators went wild. They faced ahead looking fierce, determined and resolute, presenting a united front as televisions across the country caught their faces in limelight. They held their hands high above into the sky and allowed them to drop only when the chariots stopped upon reaching the City Circle. But their fingers were still intertwined firmly, holding each other together and providing each other a support that meant equally to both of them.

On the screens Peeta knew that they were getting the most screen time. Even as the President stood up and welcomed the tributes to the Capitol, beginning his usual speech, the eye of the cameras flitted to them more often than not. It captured both his and Katniss's face individually before hastily diverting attention to President Snow. Against the setting sun the effect of the fire against their faces had amplified and the twinkling flames were painfully obvious in the night, so much so that he knew that the crowd and the cameras would be having a hard time letting their gazes wander. Peeta mentally reminded himself to give Portia a hug the next time he would be seeing her. He truly had underestimated her and Cinna's potential although he had no idea of knowing their genius. President Snow's voice droned out through his head and he occasionally caught a sentence or two. His own gaze was flitted over to Katniss. He had always thought that she was pretty, even when he was little but this was taking it to a whole new level.

When the national anthem played the cameras did a quick cut around to each pair of tributes but visibly held the footage on to the District Twelve chariot as it paraded around the circle one last time and disappeared into the Training Center which would be the tributes refuge or as he would say prison until the Games begun. As they got off the chariot they were immediately engulfed in excited blabber of prep teams from all sides who showered them with praises and compliments. Portia extinguished the fire with some kind of spray and he made sure to pass her a smile which he was certain she understood. Peeta knew that the costumes had given them a distinct advantage against the other tributes who true to his suspicion were sending them dirty looks. He made sure to purposely send a satisfied smirk to the buff guy from Two who had been glaring at Peeta, realizing he had already been overshadowed. Peeta finally dropped Katniss's hand and noticed that the circulation had halted in both of their fingers with how tightly they had been holding on.

He felt like the parade had done wonders to his confidence. He was sure that no body was going to forget Katniss now and for once he felt the bubbling hope of getting her home alive. Right then, her eyes looked impossibly blue and her face was flushed with all the smiling. Just like always a few tendrils of blonde escaped her braid framing her face naturally and he had a random urge to reach out and push the strands behind her ears. He wondered for the umpteenth time what his life would have been without her presence. He gave her a smile, the first real one since the reaping and she reached up on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek.

* * *

**Here you go :) **

**I hope you guys liked my descriptions of the prep team and Portia because none of them were given much thought in the book. I personally hated how Portia was presented like a Capitol dressed woman in the movie. I always imagined her like a female version of Cinna or how I just described. I also think she wasn't given enough credit with the costumes. After all both Cinna and Portia designed them so it seemed a little unfair. So watcha think?**

**I think some of you are bothered by the lack of romance in the last chapters but I will not make this a fluff story. I'll only add romance when I see fit. I just don't see these characters as the type of people to start snogging every other minute. The next chapter has a little romance though :3**

**Anyways I just read the Host and asdfghjk it was soooo good. I can't even imagine the same person wrote Twilight (no offence) . I'm thinking of doing a Host fanfic :3 Wanda and Ian are soo cute :3 3**

**Guys I really really need you to review please! I know a lot of you are following but please review too okay? Can you guys get me to at-least 60? I promise the next update will be earlier, probably after a week. **

**Song is Firework by Katy Perry.**

**And now after the increasingly long AN the preview of the next chapter:**

"You have to understand." he continued. "What it… it meant when you volunteered for Prim. It was like trying to choose between suffocating and drowning knowing that you'd die either way but trying to go with the lesser evil. And when you volunteered… I didn't know what to think because I wasn't drowning but now I was suffocating instead."

**hehe :3**

**-EG**


	6. Chapter 5

**Hello my lovely reader! Here's a little fluffy chapter c:**

**Ramazan Mubarak to all my lovely Muslims! :)**

**A special thanks to PeetasAndHerondales who has been supplying me with lovely advice from the start and a really big shout out to my Betareader CJEllison (who started work this chapter) she is amazing at what she does and gives the best advice! Thnankyou! **

**Disclaimer: The day the ownership of The Hunger Games is handed over to me is yet to come.**

* * *

Chapter 5

Katniss

_And my momma swore _

_That she would never let herself forget_

_And that was the day that I promised_

_I'd never sing of love, if it does not exist_

_But darling, you are the only exception_

* * *

_Katniss walked into the school cafeteria, which as per usual held more people that it could possibly contain. She scanned the mass of the people and immediately spotted Madge at their usual table, sitting beside Delly and Kurt Scott- the latter of whom Katniss hated with a passion. She could easily spot Madge's own discomfort as she avoided looking up from her lunch to the face of the obnoxious boy. She would occasionally glance up, only to snap a retort or scowl in Kurt's direction. Katniss wondered who had the idiocy to invite that abomination of a boy to their table, but then reminded herself that Delly was far too nice for her own good. Still, she was already in a cranky mood because of the insomnia that kept her up the whole night, and listening to Kurt's bragging was the first things in her list to do after the apocalypse._

_Without another thought, she quickly skimmed through the rest of the crowded cafeteria, searching for a place to sit. She was sure Madge and Delly would understand, although Madge would be annoyed as to why Katniss hadn't come to her rescue. She spotted a table filled with the wrestling team, another crowded with snobby merchants and another with emaciated Seam children. Lastly, her eyes glanced upon a lone table in the far corner that only held one raven haired boy, eating an apple with one hand and furiously scribbling down in a binder with the other. She set course towards the boy, not giving her actions too much consideration in case she completely chickened out._

_She zigzagged her way through the mass of tables and inconspicuously slid into the seat opposite him. He didn't notice her arrival, his head still bent over his work, his mass of shaggy coal-black hair partly obscuring his eyes. Peeta looked up from his binder, about to take another bite from his apple, and did a double take. She lifted her hand awkwardly and gave him a small wave._

_"Hello."_

_His eyes were steely, wide and suspicious. He raised an eyebrow. "Hi." _

_She cleared her throat awkwardly, the nervousness already starting to kick in. She normally considered herself to be a confident person, so she had no idea why she felt nervous sitting here opposite this peculiar twelve year old. Her palms felt a little sweaty, and she was sure her heart wasn't supposed to be beating at the rate it currently was. But even as she was thinking it, she realized that a small part of her knew exactly why; Peeta had always intrigued her, ever since they were little. She had subconsciously been aware of him this whole time, whether she chose to acknowledge the fact or not. But she supposed they weren't complete strangers, at least. He had come to thank her after the bread incident, and she had taken his little sister to the bakery the other day, Peeta trailing quietly behind them._

_But even if she didn't know much about this enigmatic boy from the Seam, she did know that she wanted to be his friend. There was something about the way that he treated his little sister- how he held up the burden of his whole family, how he risked his life every day to feed them. Maybe some part of her felt sympathetic towards his situation, but a much greater part of her admired him for the way he handled it all. She couldn't help but feel inferior when she looked at his achievements compared to her own. Sure- she got a distinction in her math test. Hunting down a stag singlehandedly beat that any day._

_His impenetrable stormy gazed still fixed upon her, Katniss blurted out the only thing that came to her mind._

_"Kurt Scott is sitting at our table and he is not too high on my list of people to deal with."_

_She thought she saw his lips twitch, but it could just have been a trick of the light. He nodded absentmindedly and returned to writing in his notebook, which Katniss took as a silent acceptance of her presence. Even so, her lunch remained untouched in its brown paper-bag. She couldn't help but feel bad taking out her fresh cheese sandwich when the only thing he was eating was an apple. She was certain that, even if she offered to share her lunch, his answer would always be the negative- if nothing else, Katniss knew that the Seam boy was proud in his own quiet, determined way. Yet another thing she admired about him._

_Nevertheless, she was determined to make him talk one way or another._

_"You know, homework is meant to be done in home. As in homework." She told him in a matter-of-fact tone, stressing the last 'home' in her sentence to make her point._

_He looked up again, his face holding either an intrigued or annoyed expression- she couldn't tell. "How do you know I'm doing homework?" He challenged._

_"Well, you would certainly have better things to do than scribble poetry during lunch hour." She replied without skipping a beat._

_He made a face at the thought of poetry and abandoned his increasingly frustrated scribbling. "Alright, since you're so sure I'm doing homework, would you mind helping me with this problem? I'm stuck."_

_She snorted and made a move to grab his homework, though she was a little surprised. Peeta asking for help was like the Capitol canceling the Games. It simply didn't happen. Maybe she wasn't the only person trying to make an attempt at conversation, however awkward the topic in question was. It turned out that the math problem he had been attempting was fairly easy, and he had been doing the same thing wrong again and again for the length of the whole page. She circled the problem and pushed his homework back towards him, tapping his pencil against the page to bring his attention to the mistake._

_His attention had drifted elsewhere, however, his eyes subtly examining the people in the cafeteria._

_"Everyone's staring at you, you know. Because you're sitting at my table." He spoke in an emotionless voice, but she could still sense a layer of bitterness beneath his words. He was drumming his fingers lightly against the table, trying to appear as impassive as possible._

_She whirled around instinctively and saw several pairs of eyes turn away, a few people whispering fervently, their eyes darting regularly in her direction. She felt a wave of embarrassment- not from the fact that she had been caught sitting with Peeta, but because Peeta had caught the people staring. She turned around again, the apology already on her lips, but he cut her off._

_"It's okay, no big deal." He was looking at his homework again where she had circled the mistake. She felt something clench inside her- she could easily tell that he was avoiding looking at her, steel eyes unfocused on the math problem lying on the table between them. She waited for him to tell her to leave, but the words never came._

_Completely at loss as to what to say, she uttered the first thing that came to her mind. "I don't care."_

_She cleared her throat, feeling the heat creep up her face. The withered surface of the cafeteria table seemed so much more interesting than before. "I don't care… if they're staring."_

_When he looked up again, his eyes held a glint that she swore had not been there before._

_"Alright," he said, the shadow of a smile playing on his mouth._

* * *

Katniss awoke with a start and rubbed the remains of her dreams from out of her eyes. This was probably the first time she had a pleasant dream instead of a nightmare since- well, how many days, she didn't know. The occurrence of the dream had been very untimely, though it could actually be considered more of a flashback. It was the day when the two of them became what she thought of as 'very distant and awkward friends who had just crossed the border of acquaintanceship'. He would still have called them strangers, but she had always been a little more optimistic.

Katniss twisted and turned around in her queen sized bed until her sheets were a mass of tangles at her feet. Finally giving up her attempts at getting a successful night of sleep, she stood up and slipped into the nightgown that hung from the bedpost. Even though the Capitol bed far exceeded the standards of District Twelve, right now she wished for her weatherworn bed at home, smelling of cinnamon and stuffed with limp pieces of cotton. She paced around her room restlessly before deciding to go up the roof that Cinna had mentioned to her, along with the rest of Effie's earlier bragging about having the penthouse.

Her surroundings felt eerily quiet as she padded bare foot across the hallways and up the stairs, the floor icy beneath her feet. She hesitated briefly when she saw the door to the roof already ajar, but her curiosity was piqued and she climbed up rest of the way.

Although it was the middle of the summer, Katniss was immediately blasted with a cold gust of wind as she stepped onto the roof and pulled her nightgown tighter around herself, the thin material offering little protection against the harsh wind. Her heart jumped into her throat when she suddenly noticed a lone figure stood by the railing, their back facing her. She approached the figure warily- but as she stepped closer, she realized that it was Peeta- leaning against the rail as he observed the sight below, his tousled black hair tugged this way and that in the wind. It was a little surprising that she hadn't immediately recognized him, considering the fact that she had the strange, innate ability to pick his mass of shaggy raven hair out from amongst the entire population of District Twelve.

The Capitol was making her twitchy, she decided.

Katniss made no effort to remain quiet, but still her light footfalls didn't make any noise at all, and it was only when she stood directly behind him that he noticed her.

"Hi." She said quietly, moving to stand beside him. "Couldn't sleep?"

He nodded his head mutely, still surveying the scene presented against their eyes. "Not a wink."

It was probably two in the morning, but as Katniss looked at the far-stretched city in front of her, it looked alive. The entire city, from the streets below to the sculpted skyline, was illuminated with glowing lights that looked like tiny specks from her view-point. She could still feel the hustle bustle of late night activity around the streets and the distant noise of chattering people. There seemed to be a light buzz of excitement in the air that had been surely brought about by the arrival of the Games. The view was spectacular with rows of shining, neatly organized buildings still glinting despite the lack of sunlight. She slid her hand across the railing and placed it over his.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he asked in a low voice, his eyes still trained on the view being offered.

"Yeah, it is." She replied. "...I hate it."

"Me too."

Silence engulfed the couple again, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. It was a silence that perhaps couldn't be filled with words. It was comfortable and relaxed and held emotions that Katniss doubted she could transform into something as clumsy and cheap as words. Without saying anything at all, she somehow knew that Peeta knew what she was feeling right now. Although she stood in the vast expanse of the night sky, Katniss couldn't help but feel suffocated. She belonged here as much as fish belonged on land, and in just a couple of day the whole world had tilted on its axis and she hadn't been able to hold on to something for balance. Just two days ago she was in District Twelve laughing with her father, making cookies with her mother and going on long treks through the woods with Peeta. Now those memories seemed so far away, belonging to another world entirely and lurking teasingly in the nooks of her brain. No matter how much she ran she could never catch them again.

Katniss wordlessly began counting constellations, all of which she could name without so much as thinking. Her father had recounted them to her so many times that she had committed them to heart, so much so that she could pick them easily from depths of the sky. It had been one of her favorite pass-times when she was younger. She remembered dragging her father to the roof by the sleeve of his shirt as he laughed, before swiftly surrendering to the attempts of his daughter. They would sit on a blanket on the roof as her father drew out the patterns in the stars, and she would nibble on the fresh cookie he had managed to smuggle from the kitchen from under her mother's watchful eye. As Katniss looked at the stars above her, she couldn't help but think that maybe the stars across the sky weren't same everywhere- the ones the Capitol had here were so diminished amongst the polluted atmosphere that she could barely see them. The thought saddened her more than it probably should have. But something in her understood that although the Capitol people had an abundance of luxuries, these small pleasures such as a brightly lit sky were something they would never experience. Was that their fault, really? That they had been born here, and she and Peeta in District Twelve?

She was only broken out her wonderings when Peeta spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper, low and measured.

"Why did you do it Katniss?" He asked and scrunched his eyes in frustration, as if begrudging himself for the lack of better wording. "Why did you volunteer for Prim?"

Katniss didn't react immediately, because some part of her knew this conversation was coming. Sure, they had been best friends for almost five years- and had been something more for almost eight months but neither of them had ever expressed any grand confessions of adoration or love or whatever it was that was between them. Of course, there had been that day when they had gotten together, but Katniss had known then that it was coming. Not because she was assuming, but because she knew if he wasn't going to do anything about it she was going to take the first step for them both. But when she thought about Peeta's inquiry, she was at complete loss for what to say. She had volunteered more for Peeta's sake than Prim's, that fact that she was well aware of, but it was the thought of the why that made her scared. Why she had risked her life for him and his sister and why she had potentially committed suicide. But hadn't he done the same?

In the end it was this thought that she managed to voice out. "Because you would've done the same in my place," she said, and turned around to face him. "In fact, you kind of did do the same."

He shrugged in reply. "Not really."

Instead of arguing with him, Katniss asked the same question in return. Even though she thought that she knew the answer, she wanted to hear it from him. "Why did you do it, Peeta?"

He finally turned around to face her and looked at her, his eyes tantalizingly grey. "Because I owe you Prim's life." He paused and took a deep breath. "And mine."

Anger suddenly seemed to blare inside her and she removed her hand from over his, running it through her already mussed up hair out of frustration. In the end, it was always about _equivalent exchange_ in his mind. He did it because he thought he was under some kind of debt and he was trying to repay her. With him it was always the same rule, get and give until the balance was in equilibrium again.

"It always come down to owing with you, doesn't it?" She asked, her voice rising an octave higher than before. "You think that you're repaying me with sacrificing your life? That you owe it to me like some kind of debt? You-" She stopped abruptly, taking in a stuttering breath to calm down, waiting for the tell-tale tremble in her voice to abate. She turned away from him sharply, not wanting him to see the sting in her eyes. She felt pathetic and preferred not to have a meltdown again in front of him, especially when she was struggling with the overwhelming urge to slap him.

Peeta's hand came to grab her elbow and he whirled her around to face him again. She didn't look him in the eyes, knowing that that the hypnotic liquid grey of his irises could affect her mood in a mere matter of seconds. Instead she focused on the hard marble beneath her feet, and how cold her bare fingers felt against the stone. But Peeta had other plans. He placed his hand gently on her jaw, as if testing her patience, and lifted her face upwards, forcing her to look into his eyes.

"I didn't mean it like that," he said and took a deep breath, momentarily closing his eyes as if figuring out an order to his words. Katniss let him, knowing he wasn't good with words. That was her forte.

"You have to understand." he continued. "What it… it meant when you volunteered for Prim. It was like trying to choose between suffocating and drowning, knowing that you'd die either way but trying to go with the lesser evil. And when you volunteered… I didn't know what to think. Because even though I wasn't drowning, now I was suffocating instead."

He took another shaky breath and Katniss remained quiet. Partly because she wanted to hear what he wanted to say, and partly because she knew he needed to let it all out, whatever emotions he was caging up inside of himself. She felt familiar lump in her throat as the emotion in his statement threatened to overwhelm her. Peeta had always been that kind of person ever since his father died, when he had been forced to shoulder the responsibility of the whole family; the kind that kept everything bottled up, until that bottle threatened to shatter from the sheer pressure. He kept his emotions to himself because, if he wasn't going to be strong, then who was? She had learned that fairly early on in their friendship, and had urged him to express himself more as they became closer.

Peeta's eyes suddenly softened and he moved his palm upwards so that it rested against Katniss's cheek. "You…you deserve to live Katniss. You deserve a long happy life with everything that you want and all the people that you love. I volunteered because I want to give you that. I want to make sure that you live long enough to be happy, because you did the same for me."

Katniss blinked rapidly to prevent the moisture from escaping her eyes, "You deserve to live too." She said fiercely despite the tremble in her voice. "After the hellhole of your life, if there is anyone who deserves to be happy, then it's you."

She looked straight into his eyes and watched their color shift from an eerie silver to a stormy grey, like the mass of swirling clouds before a hurricane. But suddenly he looked away and dropped his hand from her face as if it had burned his fingers, and said in a voice so quiet that she barely picked it up-

"I don't know how to be happy without you."

That did it. With the single line he had broken the wall she had so precariously built to dam the emotions she had been holding up. The tears finally spilled and she suddenly rushed forwards, throwing her arms around his neck as though he might be ripped away from her any second. She buried her face in the crook of his neck just as his arms snaked across her waist to hold her against him, an inch or two from the ground. Katniss breathed deeply in his scent, a mixture of pine trees, mint and the worn leather of his hunting jacket. He shifted his head so that his cheek rested against hers.

"You can learn how to be happy." She mumbled in a quiet voice. "You'll win, go back home to Prim, get a nice house in Victor's Village and go hunting with Gale every day."

He remained silent in reply. She sensed that he wanted to argue but had thought better of it. He finally set her on the ground gently, but didn't remove his arms from around her waist. She would never be fully over the feel of his arms around her and the inexplicable sense of security and comfort they brought.

She was glad when he said, "Let's not talk about it okay? Let's not talk about it until it's actually time."

"Okay." She replied. He glanced into her eyes and she was surprised how easily she had learnt to read the emotion in them. How the gray changed shades when he was angry or happy or grieving. He reached a hand to brush some stray spun-gold hair from her eyes and pushed them behind her ear, before reaching forwards and pressing his lips gently against hers. She felt that indescribable spark which she had felt the first time they had kissed, a spark that had never truly gone away. Something about him made her worries evaporate and her mind to relax and it brought out a rare sense of happiness she always experienced in his presence. She relaxed against his chest, tightened her arms around his neck and played leisurely with the wisps of dark hair at the nape of his neck as he brought a hand to cup her cheek.

Standing there in his arms as he kissed her, she couldn't help but think that maybe the world wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

**So watcha think? c:**

**I heard some complaints regarding the fact that it was unclear whether Peeta and Katniss were actually in a relationship, I hope this chapter clears it up and I know the previous chapters were lacking in romance so I hope this makes up for it.**

**Please please please review and post your complaints, appreciations, ideas and anything! I would really appreciate it! :)**

**The song is The Only Exception by Paramore. **

**I'm sorry I'm unable to provide a preview for the next chapter because it's not dome yet. I was working on something else for a little while but I swear I won't make this a habit! c:**

**On a completely irrelevant topic, if I were to make a tumblr would you guys follow me? :p**

**Until next time,**

**-EG**


	7. Chapter 6

**Hey guys! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, I hope you guys like it too!**

**Guys, I don't why but the reviews are dwindling, I barely got any in the last chapter. Am I doing something wrong? D: If so please tell me! :c**

**Thankyou for the 100 follows though! :***

**A special thanks to my beta CJEllison! You are absolutely amazing! **

**Disclaimer: When I own The Hunger Games, I promise you guys'll be the first to know.**

* * *

Chapter Six

Katniss

* * *

_Let's paint a picture, of a perfect place_

_They got it better than what anyone's told you_

_They'll be the King of Hearts and You'll be The Queen of Spades_

_And we'll fight for you like we're your soldiers._

* * *

When Katniss woke up the next day, she was relieved to find that she had not been plagued with a single nightmare the whole night and actually felt well rested for the first time since the reaping. She decided to take a bath before Effie decided to initiate her usual routine of physically assaulting her door. Still too groggy to concentrate on the controls of the shower, she instead ended up pushing almost all the available buttons. The rest of the hour was spent being attacked by jets of alternatingly boiling hot and icy cold water and an assortment of shower oils that consisted of lemon, rosemary, apricot, cherry and about ten other luxurious scents and essences that she couldn't identify. When she returned to her room she found that her clothes had been already laid out for her. Her attire consisted of a burgundy tunic, black skin tight pants and leather boots that came up to her calves. Considering all that she could have been commanded to wear, she was extremely relieved. It almost felt like she was getting ready for a day out of the woods with Peeta instead of preparing for training to survive the massacre of the Games. But all she needed to do was take a look around her to see otherwise.

Sighing, she tried to ignore that sick feeling in the pit of her stomach- with a full day of training, she had to eat something substantial- and stood in front of the mirror to braid her hair, noticing that it was now devoid of the little threads of glittering gold that Cinna had woven into it the night before. It was the most like herself she had felt since stepping onto the Capitol train.

She walked into the dining room to find it devoid of people except for two Avox, stood at opposite sides of the room. She had been repulsed ever since Effie had explained what an Avox actually was at dinner the night before. Even now she couldn't bear to look an Avox in the eye and told the girl now standing beside the table that she would serve herself. She grabbed herself a cup of hot chocolate and piled her plate high with scrambled eggs just as Peeta entered the room, dressed in an almost identical clothes to Katniss. His hair was sticking out in every available direction, a hand blearily rubbing his eye as he walked over to Katniss and gave her a drowsy smile, before leaning forward to kiss her cheek.

Unfortunately, that was also the exact moment that Haymitch decided to enter the room. His eyebrows rose above the hair line before he composed his expression and started pilling his plate with breakfast. Katniss was surprised to see him up and about this early. Perhaps it was owing to their spectacular performance the night before; maybe Haymitch decided they were worth the struggle after all. For a moment the three of them sat quietly around the table, noiselessly munching on their food while Katniss and Peeta shared little panicked glances between themselves. Katniss had almost cleaned her plate when Haymitch decided to break the silence.

"So, let's get right to it," he declared, leaning his elbows on the table, an unusually sharp look in his eye as his gaze flicked between the two of them, much like a hawk. "What's going on between the two of you?" He demanded bluntly.

With a brief exchange of anxious expressions, they both decided to play innocent. "What do you mean?" Katniss asked nonchalantly.

"Don't mess with me, sweetheart." Haymitch snarled, already impatient with the faux-coy act. "Don't forget that I'm from District Twelve too. Heard all the gossip 'bout the baker's daughter with the Seam boy."

_Oops. _Katniss bit her lip sheepishly. Of _course_ he'd heard about it. Gossip like _that_ even travelled to the ears of the town recluse. Nobody had been pleased when Katniss had decided to befriend Peeta, not the merchants or those from the Seam. A mutual arrangement had been developed years ago, after the end of the dark days. The merchants and the seam people interacted only to the extent of trade and generally kept to their own society. Katniss and Peeta had been the first violation of the unspoken pact. That was perhaps why people had found the knowledge of their relationship scandalous. Katniss shifted her gaze towards Peeta again. He shrugged as if saying, _well, he already knows, doesn't he?_

"Peeta and I," Katniss said carefully, sending a slight glare in Peeta's direction for making her do this. "We're… um… together."

"_Together_?"

"As in _dating,_" Peeta cut in, with a roll of his eyes, probably more to do with the fact that Haymitch was being deliberately obtuse than Katniss' vague answer.

"'Course you are." Haymitch snorted with something that sounded suspiciously like exasperation. He straightened his shoulders and fixed either of them with a serious look. "Alright, fine. In that case, here's what I want you to do. When the cameras are on you and even when they aren't, I want you both together every single second of every single day. Stick to each other like glue, understand?"

"And why would you want us to do that?" Peeta asked narrowing his eyes in Haymitch's direction. "None of the other tributes have ever done anything like that, so-"

"Exactly," Haymitch cut in. "Remember that national broadcast after the recaps of the reapings?" They both nodded the affirmative. "You saw what reaction you two got after that public hug and the volunteering and whatever, right? _That's _the kind of reaction we want. That's the kind of reaction that results in sponsors. Sponsors with big fat wallets that can give you an edge and wind up saving your life in that arena- _if_ you get their attention and persuade them that you're worth it, that is. If you want to win, you have to be in the spotlight, which by the looks of last night, you are. And a love story? Folks here in the Capitol just eat that stuff up. Star-crossed lovers, a fight to the death... that's entertainment. They'll love it."

It was after a moment that Katniss finally understood the meaning behind Haymitch's words. Her eyes widened.

"You're saying that- you mean, the Capitol might actually be interested in... in our relationship? In seeing- in _watching_ us..." She trailed off with a cringe, her voice an octave higher than usual. The idea was so revolting in her head that she wanted to run until the Capitol would be nowhere within her sights.

"And you want us to show it off?" Peeta asked in a disgusted tone, his expression mirroring Katniss's.

Haymitch waved a hand indifferently, dismissing Peeta's rebuttal. "I'm telling you that you've got something unique, and to play up. Stuff like the hugging and the hand-holding the two of you have been putting up already should be more than enough to get them talking. Just give the audience enough to keep them interested. Make it subtle. Make them question if there's something more going on between you two," Haymitch advised. "Even the slightest hint of a good story and the Capitol will run with it."

Katniss mused over his words. It was hard to admit it, but Haymitch's logic was already making sense. She knew that he was a drunkard- but he was an experienced drunkard nevertheless. And it really wouldn't be that difficult to send mixed signals to the audience; she and Peeta would just act normally around each other. But her relationship with Peeta was something that she prized beyond words and she wasn't sure if she was ready to jeopardize it by shoving it into the limelight for the sake of winning over the audience. Although, if that was what it took to get Peeta out of the arena alive, she was willing to risk everything.

Still, she looked to Peeta's eyes for agreement, an action both of them had been repeating since they stepped off onto the Capitol soil. His stormy eyes were already searching hers, determined and grudgingly compliant to the plan. She slowly nodded her agreement.

"Fine, we'll do it." Katniss said.

"I wasn't asking for your agreement, sweetheart," Haymitch drawled.

Peeta frowned in Haymitch's direction. His brows furrowed and he pressed his lips into a thin line. "You got anything else for us?" he snapped challengingly, clearly not quite ready to blindly trust the man who had been so blasé as to their fates up until this moment.

"As a matter of fact, I do." Haymitch deadpanned, unperturbed. "Tell me about the extent of your skills. You first, boy," he said, nodding his head at Peeta.

Peeta's expression instantly changed from anger to that of discomfort. He glanced around from the corner of his eyes, and Katniss knew that he was searching for hidden cameras. If he announced that he was an archer, the Capitol would easily put two and two together and know that he hunted illegally. Then again, even if they found out what was the worst they could do? Throw Peeta in the Games? Katniss felt a sardonic smile twist at her mouth.

"I can shoot," said Peeta eventually, after a small lapse in the conversation. It wasn't as if he had much of a choice; Katniss was willing to bet that even a after a month of tearing the penthouse apart, there would still be more tiny cameras and microphones hidden wherever there were a few spare millimeters of space.

But it looked as though Haymitch already knew that as he inclined his head and rolled his eyes. "How good are you?"

Peeta shrugged in answer. "I'm okay."

Katniss couldn't hold in her snort no matter how unladylike it was of her. Peeved, she addressed Haymitch.

"Are you kidding me? He's great. Excellent actually. He could probably bring down five birds from the air in a single round." It wasn't too far off the truth, actually. Katniss had once gone hunting with Peeta and thrown a stone to flush out a flock of wild geese from the thicket. Peeta had loosed five arrows at the flurry of feathers that burst from the foliage. Four of them hit their targets.

Haymitch raised his eyebrows in Peeta's direction. "You're that good?"

By this time, Peeta was glaring at her. She already knew what his plan was. To make sure that she won the Games. But that was where her own plan came in- and it unfortunately relied on making sure that his didn't work.

"She's exaggerating," said Peeta in as much of an offhand tone as he could manage whilst still sending her a meaningful glare.

"No I'm not," she replied almost instantly in a sharp voice. "I'm making a fair assessment of your skills. Don't underrate yourself."

"I'm not. _You're _overrating _me._"

"Alright. Katniss, I already know that you're handy with a knife." Haymitch cut through, sensing the growing tension in the room. "Can you do something else?"

She broke away from the staring contest she and Peeta had started up. "Not really."

This time it was Peeta's turn to interfere. "She's strong," he said quickly. "_Really_ strong. I've seen her lifting bags of flour in her parents' bakery. She can probably lift as much as I can."

He had an eyebrow raised in challenge. _Who's undermining their-self now? _His eyes seemed to glint at her determinedly.

"Peeta knows everything there is to know about plants," she shot back. She was never the one to back down from a challenge; especially when he was the one presenting it. "He can identify almost anything at a glance, from edible to medicinal to poisonous."

"Yeah, sure, _that's_ going to be useful. I'm going to win the Hunger Games by identifying strawberries," Peeta retorted sarcastically, his voice rising slowly in volume with each word.

"No," she said, her own voice rising to meet his, "but you're a lot less likely to die from eating the wrong kind of plants!"

Haymitch's eyes were again darting to and fro between them. She could almost see the gears churning in his head.

"Well, well, well," he said in a voice that suggested that he found their glaring match highly entertaining. "Neither and both of you are right. Don't underestimate your skills, Peeta- your knowledge on plants could save your life. Katniss, work on that physical strength. It plays an important role in hand-to-hand combat, especially against the opposite sex where men tend to miscalculate female strength. And both of you, try not to display what you can do until your private session with the Gamemakers. Try out the other stations- climb a wall, swing a mace, anything. And don't dismiss the basic stations either. Those will give you some essential skills in surviving whatever environment they decide to throw you into this year. Hypothermia can kill you just as well as an axe to the head."

Haymitch quickly dismissed them afterwards. Katniss' head was still churning when she and Peeta met Effie at the elevator door at ten sharp, mulling over the details of Haymitch's instructions. Effie had apparently decided that it was about time that she changed the color of her wardrobe and was now completely plastered in orange, adorned in a flashy top and a silky gold colored skirt that sprinkled a trail of glitter in its wake. She wore matching make up and excessively long lashes tipped with ochre feathers and Katniss found it hard looking at the combination of excessive orange and exaggerated fluttering for even short periods of time. So naturally, she complimented Effie on her new look as Peeta passed her a look that she discerned as _are you kidding me?_

She gave him an I-don't-kid look. Peeta rolled his eyes.

During the elevator ride, Effie obliviously began gushing about how she was already helping them get sponsors and how many of her friends came to congratulate her on the brilliant performance in the tribute parade, including something about some 'clever' phrase involving pressure on coal and pearls, which, if Effie was saying what Katniss thought she was, was utterly wrong. It was only the third day since the reaping and Katniss was already an expert on tuning out Effie's voice. It was no wonder Haymitch had been reduced to drinking. Katniss already felt like she had gotten enough of the Capitol- except for the food. She felt a little more sympathetic towards Haymitch considering he had to spend a month here every year, but not sympathetic enough to stop her from smiling at the thought of him having to endure Effie's wardrobe and cloying enthusiasm year after year.

Effie escorted them to the basement level where the training would take place and where they were surprisingly the last to arrive. She did a quick assessment of the room and found that she and Peeta were the only two dressed alike. If Katniss had hoped that their matching outfits wouldn't be noted she was mistaken as she saw several pairs of eyes inspecting their getup as they walked in, a few scowls and a few looks of distaste. She knew them for what they were. She smirked inwardly when she realized the other tributes were jealous of them for stealing the spotlight at the Opening Ceremony. The Tribute Parade had made her feel a little hopeful, like there was some chance for Peeta after all- a small one nonetheless, but a chance.

A trainer began to speak but Katniss was already sizing up her competition. Her stomach dropped when she noticed that almost all the males were bigger than her save for the spindly little boy from Three and the cripple from Ten. The girls from the Career Districts looked twice her size from all the training they would have been brought up doing. She could see the muscle on their arms and even spotted a few scars and scratches as a proof of the years of preparation. But she also noticed that being from a relatively well fed family had given her an edge. She could spot a number of hollow faces with sunken cheeks and bony figures. In comparison, she had a fairly healthy figure.

As the training started, she and Peeta stuck together, as per Haymitch's instructions. She saw Peeta's eyes immediately dart to the shooting range before eyeing the collection of gleaming bows hung up beside the range. She could almost feel his hand itching to grab a bow and shoot to his heart's content but Haymitch had specifically warned him to stay clear from archery. She nudged his shoulder with hers.

"Where shall we start?" She asked him.

He eyed the other weapon ranges where the Careers had already started to show off. Spears and knifes whizzed onto the bull's-eye while their respective owners smirked proudly. The male from Four proudly displayed his trident wielding abilities while the girl from One had challenged an expert in hand-to-hand combat.

"Let's stay clear of the ranges for a while... or else I'll suffocate from all the cockiness floating around," he said with a look of pure distaste.

"Ditto," she replied.

They decided to try knot-tying, in which he was good and she was horrible. Katniss fumbled with the ropes until the twine was a tangle at her fingers and she didn't have the slightest idea where to begin correcting it. Peeta, on the other hand, was astoundingly dexterous with even the most complex knots- not even noticing how spectacularly she was failing, Peeta made another loop in his rope, brought it up from under and secured it into a neat knot. She scowled in his direction.

"Uhh…a little help maybe?"

He finally looked over at her and laughed at seeing the 'knot' she had attempted. She scowled again and slapped his arm with her free hand.

He laughed again, teasingly. "Jeez, don't get violent, Baker Girl," he said.

She tried to hide her smile at the old nickname as he helped her untangle her fingers. He had given her that a few years ago when they were fourteen when she had tried to teach him to bake simple sugar cookies. Just like her archery lessons, it had ended in disaster.

_"No, no, no," she cried for the nth time. "More flour, that looks more like cake mixture than cookie dough, we need to thicken- I said more flour! That is not flour, you idiot!"_

_Peeta stopped abruptly in his tracks. He had been about to tip a small bowl of white powder into the cookie batter- which still looked extremely runny. He delicately set the bowl back atop the counter and ran a frustrated hand through his hair._

_"Well, what the heck is this, then?!" He complained indignantly. "It's white and it's a powder!"_

_She looked at him, amused. She admitted that although he was screwing up badly she was still enjoying seeing him whine and looking confused, like he had stepped into alien territory, which in his mind, he had. She supposed she was being a bad friend but seeing Peeta lose his composure was highly entertaining. His air was sticking up all over the place and was dusted with what was actual flour, his eyebrows scrunched together like he was trying to solve an impossible puzzle._

"That_ is powdered sugar." She told him false irritated voice, trying to hide her amusement. She pointed to another larger bowl filled with white powder._ _"_That_ is flour, over there, next to the milk."_

_He rolled his eyes and went to grab the correct bowl all the while muttering and huffing under his breath. It was times like these that she truly loved. When Peeta forgot to be the head of the family for a small amount of time, even if it was just an hour, and was instead her best friend or a mere fourteen year old boy. His eyes would lose their hard, penetrating appearance and the small crease lines on his forehead would disappear. He would laugh fully and heartedly, something she rarely saw him do outside the confines of the woods, and for once she felt like they were just two regular kids, living something that was perhaps remotely close to a regular life._

_She turned around, facing her own batch of cookies that were all set for the oven. She tweaked and prodded one or two cookies into correct shapes before slipping the perfect tray into the oven. She went to stand next to him to observe his success or the lack thereof but noticed something was off again._

_"Peeta…" she said slowly. "Just how many eggs did you add?"_

_He looked up at her, unperturbed, and she almost giggled at his flour-dusted hair. "I don't know… uh, five?"_

_She resisted the urge to face-palm and instead closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Peeta, I said_ three._ I distinctly remember saying _three. That's_ why the batter is so runny!" She cried and almost cringed when her own voice came out as a whine._

_He huffed again and crossed his arms over his chest, looking charmingly petulant and flustered. "Well, we can't all be good at making cookies, Baker Girl!"_

The flashback faded into reality as Peeta finally succeeded in untangling her fingers, the tips of which had almost gone purple. She breathed a sigh of relief as the rope came loose and wiggled her fingers in the air so that the blood could resume its journey through her system. She and Peeta tried another half an hour worth of luck at the knot tying station before trying someplace else. By that time Peeta had successfully attempted a perfect noose while she had succeeded in not entangling her fingers for the third time.

The two of them spent another hour inspecting and learning about various plants and herbs, where the small man seemed delighted to finally have tributes by his station. The whole time they bickered back and forth and laughed at each other's lame attempts at jokes, and by the time they left to try out the ranges she was sure they had thoroughly convinced the man at the station- and probably everyone else in the Training Centre- that the both of them were probably more than 'just friends'.

She felt a wave of unpleasantness roll inside of her at the thought. Hers and Peeta's relationship was something that had always felt personal, like a part of herself that she would never want to give away. She felt that if anyone knew, the whole world would conspire against them to tear them apart. Not to mention that, as much as she hated thinking about it, she knew that they hadn't have much time left that was just _theirs_. She wanted to cherish all the small things while it lasted. Like the almost timid way Peeta would hold her hand, or that glint in his usually steely eyes that appeared only in her presence, or the contentment she felt when his arms were around her. These were the small things that usually overwhelmed her and now given the small amount of time they had left, they didn't feel like even nearly enough anymore.

Katniss shook her head to rid her mind of such thoughts and focused on the task at hand. She picked up a spear precariously between her fingers and juggled it from hand to hand to find the proper balance. She then twirled it around her fingers to get used to the hard steel within her grasp instead of the plywood handle of her knife back at home. She looked around to find that Peeta had wondered ahead to check out the other ranges. Katniss focused her attention on the target and fixed her eyes upon a single point, like she did with her knife. She extended her arm backwards, closed her left eye and breathed in deeply, before jerking it forth and releasing the spear from her grasp.

The spear pierced the air with a _whoosh!_ as it hurtled towards the target-dummy. For a second Katniss thought that she may have actually gotten the bulls-eye before the sharp tip of the spear collided against the corner of the circular board and clattered loudly to the floor. Katniss shrugged mentally. It was her first try; this was probably as good as it got. Her hand was inches away from another spear before she heard a laugh echo through the gymnasium.

"What do you call that, Twelve?"

She whirled around abruptly to come face to face with the male tribute from District One. His lips were stretched into a roguish smirk and his eyes danced with mischief. He turned a spear idly between his fingers like he was handling a toothpick instead of a lethal weapon. In her shock, Katniss stumbled back on her feet and his grin widened. Her memory supplied a name to the daunting face. Marvel. His name was Marvel.

"Get lost, One." she hissed coldly, mustering as much threat into her voice as she could. She silently prayed that he would not hear the barest tremble in her voice or the evident throbbing of her heart. Her brain silently analyzed the fact that she barely came up to his shoulders and he had a deadly sharp spear, fresh at his disposal.

"Where are your flames now, Fire Girl?" Marvel taunted as he started to edge closer.

Katniss swallowed the lodge in her throat and discreetly moved back, trying to maintain as much dignity as possible. She was aware of eyes turned in her direction, starting to stare at the commotion. Her heart was thudding against her ribcage and her hands felt clammy. She knew the other tributes had been less than pleased, owning to their climatic reaping and their big-show at the Opening Ceremony; but she had no idea that they would be willing to take it this far. She didn't know if Marvel would actually dare to hurt her but she couldn't let herself get humiliated in front of the others. That would put all of Cinna's efforts to waste. Besides, if she wanted to protect Peeta in the Games, she would have to guarantee that all of her limbs would still be intact for her to do so.

She lifted her shoulders and straightened her posture to a more defensive position. "Hard to admit we stole the spotlight, huh, District One?" She goaded, making sure her voice reverberated across the room.

Marvel's face transformed into a snarl and the muscles on his arms tensed, preparing for the throw. Katniss ducked just in time as the spear zoomed past her shoulder and embedded itself straight into the bulls-eye. She staggered backwards, crashing into a display of spears. All around her, weapons rattled and clanged to the floor. Her limbs trembled from the shock. Anger spiked up inside of her, trickled with fright and surprise. She curled her quivering fingers into fists and gritted her teeth together. She could've been killed. Damnit, she could've _died. _The Games hadn't even started yet!

Before she could lunge into action, whatever she may have tried to do, she was cut short by the threat that resounded through the makeshift arena.

"Get... away... from her... District One," Peeta said slowly, punctuating each word with a snarling vehemence. His voice was dangerously low, a little more than a hiss through his teeth, yet sounded loud and clear in the silence that had spread through the remaining tributes. He stood a few ranges away, the muscles of his body strained and taut. A vein flickered at his forehead. She had never seen him this angry- not since he had seen some kids at school bullying Prim. Belatedly, she realized that his fingers were clasped tightly around a silver bow and he had a streamlined arrow notched straight at Marvel's chest.

If her heart hadn't already been beating fast enough, now it was threatening to burst out of her ribcage. She immediately dropped her guard, sensing the perilous situation at hand. If Peeta's temper acted up at that moment, she knew they would be in trouble. Her gaze desperately searched Peeta's face until her eyes landed on his. She shook her head at him vigorously_. Don't do it, Peeta. Stay away. It's not worth it._

His eyes flashed and his grip tightened in answer.

"Or what, Twelve?" Marvel challenged looking amused, yet still intimidated by Peeta's unexpected interference. He turned around to face Peeta and gave a faux laugh when his eyes landed on the bow trained over his chest. His surprise at seeing the weapon was palpable. It was the way Peeta held the bow- like he was born to do it. His stance was in perfect angle, his shoulders were confident and his arms in flawless formation. Inconspicuously, Marvel tried to edge away so that Peeta's arrowhead was no longer aimed directly at his heart.

"Kids shouldn't mess with weapons." Marvel jeered. A drop of sweat ran down his brow. "Someone could get hurt."

Peeta released the arrow, his only answer to Marvel's taunts. Katniss cursed mentally and closed her eyes shut, not prepared to see the repercussions of Peeta's actions. A sharp whizz tore the air, followed by a shocked scream of outrage and the harsh clattering of spears. Katniss opened her eyes. She was disgusted with herself when she was relieved to find Marvel unharmed, lying among another case of spears he had knocked over. A silver arrow was implanted deep into the wall behind where his head was previously positioned.

"You could've killed me!" Marvel bellowed, outraged and completely out of his wits with what sounded like a blend of rage, fear, incredulity and barely concealed relief.

"If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead right now," said Peeta flatly, steel eyes filled with ice.

Katniss felt a thrill run down her spine. Suddenly, she realized her job of making sure that Peeta won the Games had simultaneously become so much easier and so much harder.

* * *

**So what do you think? Frankly I loved writing a badass Peeta xD**

**Guys, I made a tumblr! My user name is emeraldgrey22 (same as my penname) Follow me please and I'll follow you back! :D**

**On the side note, can you _please_ go and check my The Host story? Please? It would mean a lot.**

**The song is All the Right Moves by One Republic (I mean can these guys get any more awesome?)**

**Reviews, favorites and follows are appreciated!**

**-EG**

**xoxo**


	8. Chapter 7

**Hey guys! I'm back! Sorry for the delay which was longer than usual but here take this chapter :D On a more positive note just one more chapter till the games yayyyy.**

**A HUGE MAMMOTH thanks to my beta C.J. Ellison without whom this chapter would have been a colossal mess. She wrote you guys a message! :**

_**(Hi! Sorry to interrupt- this is C.J. Ellison, the one who usually hangs out behind the scenes... I just wanted to apologise, since E.G got this chapter to me to go over wonderfully fast, as per usual, but I wasn't up to my usual standards, and it took me a while longer to finish up my edits. So, any delay is completely my fault, and I'm sorry about that. Um... so, yeah, I'm going to slink back to the shadows now...)**_

**Just so you guys know she even wrote a little scene in this chapter; the part where Katniss and Peeta spot Rue spying on them. Credit for the scene goes to her! You guys can find her in my favorite authors list if you wanna say something or just write your message in a review! **

**A belated Eid Mubarak to all my Muslim brothers and sisters! :* and happy reading! **

* * *

Chapter 7

Katniss

* * *

_You swore and said we are not_

_We are not shining stars_

_This I know_

_I never said we are_

* * *

"_What the hell was that?!"_ Katniss seethed, shoving Peeta away from her roughly as they stepped off the elevator and into the penthouse. She cursed herself for the furious tremble in her voice, her fingers shaking, an angry flush burning up through her skin. Adrenaline thumping angrily through her veins with every heartbeat, she ground her teeth down on the tip of tongue before she said something that she would later regret.

Peeta barely staggered from the force of her push, expecting her fury, instead grabbing her wrists and jerking her towards his body so that she was forced to meet his gaze. His eyes were steely, burning with a savage fire, but as his stormy irises connected with hers they softened immediately.

"Katniss," Peeta said in a low voice, barely containing his rage, "He threw a freaking _spear_ at your head." His nails dug little crescents into her skin but she refused to acknowledge the mild sting, glaring right back into his eyes. He let out a large breath, as if attempting to release his anger into the air. "_Did you expect me to just stand there and watch_?"

_"Yes!"_ She cried, wrenching her hands away from his tight grasp. Her chest was heaving, each breath laced with desperation and anger. "Damn it, Peeta, if you started shooting arrows at everyone who-"

"Alright, what the _hell_ is going on _this time_?' Haymitch demanded as he sauntered into the room, a half-empty bottle of liquor in his hand. His words were slightly slurred, but Katniss knew that considering his alcohol tolerance, Haymitch was far from intoxicated.

Both she and Peeta halted in their tracks and straightened their postures out of the defensive and aggressive stances they had unconsciously taken. Peeta hesitantly met her gaze, silently inquiring how to proceed but Katniss broke the look quickly, determined to show her irritation. She folded her arms across her chest and, with a flat voice, turned to Haymitch and informed him of the events that had transpired during the training, sparing no detail. As she talked, the expression on Haymitch's face slowly morphed from indifference to fury.

"What the hell, kid?" He hollered at Peeta before she was even finished. He slammed his bottle hard on an ornamental table, the clear liquid sloshing heavily inside the glass. "I think I told you _not_ to show your strengths."

"I didn't," Peeta replied flatly. He looked at Haymitch with a dangerous glint in his eyes, as if Haymitch was the one to blame for the incident in training.

"Huh?"

"He can shoot accurately from thrice as far," Katniss replied unwillingly, her lips pressed into a thin line. She ignored the half-impressed, half-annoyed look on Haymitch's face. "But that's not the point!"

"What_ is_ the point then?" Peeta rounded on her, his voice an octave higher than before. There was a hint of irritation in his voice which in return made _her_ all the more irate. What right did he have to be angry with her? When he was the one who had overreacted? When she was desperately trying to make sure he got out of this alive and went home to a mother and little sister who loved him, needed him? Why did he insist on having this insane inability to keep a level head when it was most important? She felt like ripping her hair out of her skull. She was hell bent on getting him out of the arena alive and he had made the possibility unattainable by the shot of a single arrow.

"You are purposely putting yourself in danger!" She shouted, the words spilling out before she could stop herself, the actual motives behind her anger finally coming to light. "You have to stop this!"

"Look," Peeta said, forcing himself to calm down. His hands were clenching and unclenching by his sides, an exercise to control his frustration. "I don't know why but I think the Careers have targeted you out. I was only trying to shift the attention."

Of course that was what he was trying to do, Katniss realized belatedly. He was shifting the attention so that the Careers would leave her alone and would target him instead. She could feel Peeta's rage at Marvel's actions- she had seen it in his eyes- yet, she realized, his own reaction had been more tactical than simply pure retaliation. Years of hunting in the woods had transformed Peeta into a strategist, he would never target his prey without contemplation. Would he be able to carry it home, would his arrow damage the meat, was it better to shoot it through the eye or cut its throat. Humans weren't so different, really.

"Peeta, please, stop putting yourself in the crosshairs!" She implored, her anger deflating. She hated the slight pleading tone in her voice. "Stop trying to _save_ me!"

Just as she uttered the words Katniss felt glad that it was out in the open between them, the silent war they had been waging against each other. It was perhaps why Katniss had been so furious. She was determined to keep him alive and he was throwing himself into the arena before the Games even begun. Not only would the Careers be after them, but also the Gamemakers. It was like he was purposely trying to derail her efforts, to the extent where all her future struggles would be useless. They hadn't voiced it but they both knew what the other was trying to accomplish. They knew that both their motives were precisely the same but exactly the opposite.

Peeta was examining her with a fiery sort of expression, stubborn and immovable as ever, but with a throbbing tenderness underneath it that sent Katniss' heart rending in her chest. "I'll stop trying to save your life when you stop trying to save mine."

* * *

The next two days of training passed relatively peacefully. Katniss and Peeta had decided to pretend that, for the limited amount of time that they had left, their argument had never taken place. Neither of them brought it up the next day because they knew that it was an argument that would always end in stalemate. The tension in the air dissolved within moments of their silent consensus. She had felt her stomach lighten when Peeta silently took hold of her hand during their elevator ride to the training room- because of their argument, she had been anxious and disturbed all night, although she knew that they had an odd ability to wiggle their way around any hurdles that arose in their relationship. Katniss didn't think she could survive the Capitol without him, let alone the Games.

During the remaining time for the training, they opted to stay away from all members of the Career pack, who had already developed a moderate sized group consisting of the tributes from District One, Two and Four. Cato- who seemed to have taken the self-appointed role of the alpha male- had also asked the hulking male from District Eleven to join them. The tribute, whose name Katniss now wished she knew, had earned her permanent respect when he had sourly declined them. By the subtly impressed look on Peeta's face, he had gained Peeta's approval too.

Katniss also found out that if Peeta had wanted to shift the attention, his plan had definitely worked. All through the day, she could feel heated gazes boring into their necks, and not just from the Careers. She could see some of the Gamemakers, who sat on a balcony overlooking the training, eyeing him from behind the glass with calculating gazes. Not only that, but it seemed as if the Career pack had agreed to keep habitual checks on both of them. More often than not, she would catch one of them in mid-glare when she turned around suddenly, or she would spot Cato or Marvel eyeballing Peeta as they impaled their targets with lethal weapons. The sight always made her shiver and curse Peeta's rashness again, wondering for the thousandth time what she was going to do now that targets had been painted on both of their backs.

Because of the attention, or perhaps in spite of it, Katniss and Peeta also kept up their charade in front all the other tributes. They barely parted from each other's sides, visiting all stations together. Part of it also due to Peeta's increased sense of paranoia; he was convinced that Katniss would be attacked again if she was let alone for more than a few seconds, and had taken to orbiting around her protectively. Katniss knew that the Careers wouldn't dare to target her a second time- too risky; Katniss knew that the Gamemakers disapproved of fighting before they got into the arena, wanting to save it all for the cameras, and upsetting the people who could send a landslide or a flood in your direction at any moment was never a good idea- but even then, she didn't necessarily mind that development in their relationship. During lunch all the other tributes scattered around, the exception of the Careers who joined their tables to eat together. She and Peeta sat together in a corner, more for privacy rather than for the sake of display.

"Ugh, my arm is killing me," Peeta complained. He wasn't the complaining type but the sprain he had acquired from the rock-climbing station was particularly bad.

"Do you know how many types of bread they have here?" She inquired in reply, completely diverting the topic of conversation. She reached over and rubbed his arm sympathetically, still not tearing her eyes from the wide display of bread-baskets. When he failed to respond, she started pointing to him.

"That small, fluffed one over there is from Two- the greenish-looking one right there is from Four, I hear they put seaweed in it, apparently it's full of minerals and nutrients- and that rough, grainy one's from Eleven-"

"And the blonde, annoying one's from Twelve."

"Funny," Katniss said dryly, slapping his sore arm lightly and tearing into another small loaf. "That's what I get from trying to teach you something." Her eyes skimmed the floor as she picked at the crust of the bread. Just as her gaze passed over another mostly empty table, there was a sudden flash of movement that startled her. Zeroing in on the table's sole occupant- a wisp of a girl who now had her back to Katniss- she contemplated the tiny tribute, feeling a stab of sympathy for her. She could only be twelve, thirteen at the most- no older than Prim.

It was that day when Katniss finally noticed it.

During afternoon training, she found herself acutely aware of being watched by someone, but not with the same hard intensity of a Career or a Gamemaker. On their second station, she dared to peek over her shoulder- and sure enough, saw a lithe figure darted behind one of the steel pillars. Katniss couldn't help but let the corners of her mouth twitch up.

"What?"

Katniss looked up at Peeta, who was looking bemused, and realized that she most have been acting odd all afternoon. She tilted her head towards the pillar. "I think we have a shadow."

Peeta immediately stiffened. "A Career?"

Katniss shook her head and looked over her shoulder again. Peeta followed her line of sight just as the tribute- the girl from Eleven, Katniss suddenly recalled, Rue- glanced out from behind her hiding place, vanishing the moment she realized that she had been spotted. Out of the corner of her eye, Katniss saw Peeta's expression soften considerably. She knew why, of course. She may be of a different coloring- the dark skin characteristic of those from her district, dark sparkling eyes and a mass of curling black hair- but Katniss had been struck from the very moment they had watched the other tributes announced that she was the spitting image of Peeta's little sister- of Prim, a being so sweet she was impossible not to love.

"I think her name is Rue," she commented aloud, offering a small smile at the girl as she peeked out again tentatively. It might have been her imagination, but Katniss thought she saw her smile back before disappearing again.

"She stole Two's knife a few days ago," Peeta suddenly commented, a glint of recognition in his eye. Katniss remembered that day- it was one where the attention had finally been diverted off herself and Peeta for a few moments- Cato had gotten into a petty scuffle with another tribute over his missing knife, and it had to be broken up by the trainers. Standing on the side-lines, it was only Peeta's nudge and the sight of the boy from Eleven looking up into the rafters with an amused, almost brotherly smile on his face that made her notice it- the mischievous little girl twirling the knife between her fingers from high above. Yes, she remembered now.

They said no more about their 'shadow', aware of her and tolerating her presence silently. They figured that she was harmless enough- and neither of them wanted to contemplate the very real possibility that she would probably die the moment that the bloodbath in the Cornucopia began.

The last day of training arrived quickly- the day in which private sessions with the Gamemakers were to be held. Before they headed down the elevator, Haymitch gave them some last words of advice but Katniss's nerves managed to disable much of her hearing abilities. The tributes were filed into a long room and were called upon one by one. The female tribute from District One was called first which meant that Katniss would be the second-last to go, before Peeta.

The room emptied gradually. By the time the District Eleven male was called, Katniss was a mess, little more than a jumble of nerves and anxiety. She tapped her feet consistently, twirled the end of her braid around her fingers and constantly shifted positions in her seat. Peeta, finally having enough of her fidgeting, grabbed both her hands and intertwined their fingers.

"Stop worrying." He told her sternly. "You'll be fine."

"Yeah, says the Almighty Hunter of the Woods." Katniss replied dryly, feeling a pout form on her lips in spite of herself.

"Is that jealously I hear, Katniss?" Peeta teased in response. A sly grin appeared on his mouth and when she scowled irritably in his direction, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss on her forehead. "You'll be fine," he repeated soothingly.

When her name was finally called, Katniss walked into the room on unsteady legs, her heart pounding a tattoo against her sternum. A scattered assembly of Gamemakers who were gathered on a raised platform, mingling and laughing within their ranks. One of Gamemakers- possibly the head, Seneca Crane- spotted her and inclined his head, a silent acknowledgment for her to continue. Katniss waited a few second for the others to turn to her direction but a reaction was not forthcoming. She realized with a jolt of panic that she was probably doomed. The Gamemakers had been there too long. They were drinking and chatting amongst themselves. Some of them were eating from the various plates that the Avoxes were carrying around and most already tipsy. Only a few turned to gaze at her, and halfheartedly at that.

Katniss decided that there was absolutely nothing that she could do about the situation- except try to impress. If nothing else, she could at least try and liven them up a bit, so that at the very least, Peeta had a fighting chance of getting a decent score. She headed to the ranges and grabbed a knife that was similar to the one she used to practice back home. The blade was longer than the one she was the one accustomed to and the butt was heavier in her hands, but it was the closest match she could find. She roughly calculated the distance between herself and the target- probably twelve yards- and was certain that it was a distance she could cover. She stayed clear from the fifteen-yard range, not trusting her abilities enough to get it that far. Wiping her sweaty palms against her pants, she took a deep breath and repeated Peeta's words inside her head. _You'll be fine._

Katniss angled her arm backwards, firmly positioning her fingers around the blade. She focused her eyes on the target until everything but the bulls-eye blurred into the background. Counting to three inside her head, Katniss threw her arm forwards with a controlled flick of her wrist, releasing the blade and praying,_ praying_, that-

The dagger hurtled through the air and she watched, completely stunned, when the knife missed the target by a good three feet and landed on the floor with a loud clang.

She cursed herself mentally, realizing the problem right away- she hadn't been able to practice with these knives because she couldn't show her hand to the other tributes, and as a result, the extra weight had managed to throw off her aim. Whatever little attention she had managed to capture from the Gamemakers had flown out the window. Determined not to give up, she tried again, taking another knife and angling her arm to accommodate the extra weight- and this time hit the edge of the target. Heartened, soon she was throwing knives one after the other, squaring her knives into the bulls-eye one by one, each punctuated by a satisfying _thunk_. She turned around triumphantly, deciding she would try camouflage or hand-to-hand combat next, only to be enraged at the scene that met her eyes. Two or three of the Gamemakers were nodding at her approvingly- but the rest of them had their eyes trained on the roasted pig that had just been carried into the room.

Katniss didn't know it was possible to feel the anger she felt bubbling inside of her at that moment. Her life was literally at stake. _Peeta's life_ was at stake and here she was, being upstaged by a _dead pig_. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears and her face burning up. She whirled around to properly face the Gamemakers, her knife in her hand-

- and suddenly stopped.

No. She couldn't do it. Her anger was getting the best of her. If she did something stupid in the heat of the moment- she could put her family in danger, she could end up with a terrible score and be marked out as an easy target, she could end up being hunted by mutts or one of the many 'natural disasters' the Gamemakers liked to employ and get herself killed before she even had a chance to ensure Peeta's victory. It might get her the Gamemakers' attention, but it wouldn't be worth it. Katniss clutched the handle of the knife tightly between her fingers until her knuckles went white, trying to cool her temper.

And then it hit her.

It _would_ get her the Gamemakers' attention, wouldn't it? No- in fact, it would _guarantee _her the Gamemakers' attention. Suddenly her mind was in overdrive. If they could get their gazes on _her_, they would leave Peeta alone.

A flash of hope and fear sparked up inside of her. Turning her gaze upon the little crowd of Gamemakers, a wave of fury coursed through her veins once again, this time stronger than before. Children were going to die soon, and they couldn't keep their eyes away from a roasted pig long enough to even give them a fighting chance. Her hesitation was squeezed into a tiny part of her mind as the fury overcame the fear.

There were astonished gasps, the shattering of several wine glasses and surprised shrieks as a flash of silver cut the air, the long knife piercing the oven-crisped skin of the apple in the pig's mouth before impaling itself in the wall behind it, quivering slightly with the force it had been thrown.

Katniss was met with wide-eyed and open mouthed stares. She glared openly back with cool insolence. A woman's wig had fallen out of her head in the haste and another man had face-planted straight into the punch bowl. Behind them, the sweet mush of the roasted apple slid down the wall, chunks of the golden flesh squelching along the pristine polish.

To complete the demonstration, Katniss gave them a small bow and said, with utter serenity, "Thank you for your consideration."

Not waiting for a dismissal, she turned around and walked through the exit.

* * *

Katniss rushed into her room and closed the door shut behind her, relived for the fact that she hadn't encountered Haymitch or Effie on the way. Her breathing was hard and her fingers shook uncontrollably, her mind spinning from the sudden realization of the consequences of what she had done. Now that the anger that had fueled her fit of defiance had ceased, the fear was back again, hitting her square in the chest with full force. Her mind provided her with terrifying scenarios of punishments that she could be forced to endure. Would they get rid of her before the Games even begun, claiming some 'mystery illness' was the cause? Would they make sure that her death in the Games was positively cruel and torturous? Would they harm her parents?

She shook her head and prayed silently that her actions would at least accomplish their original goal; to shift the attention towards herself so that Peeta could be saved. She knew that he had the ability to defend himself but he wouldn't survive if the Careers or the Gamemakers had a personal vendetta against him. And, she had reminded herself, there was a good chance they were actually paying attention when Peeta gave his demonstration, thanks to her display. She forced herself to calm the rapid pounding of her heart, breathing deeply in and out. _For Peeta_, she repeated inside her head. _For Peeta_.

Katniss decided to take a shower to calm her nerves before Peeta got back. After she had bathed and changed she emerged from her room and into the lounge, expecting to find Haymitch waiting to hear her report. She had decided, whilst under the soothing pressure of vanilla-scented water, to not tell him anything until the scores were announced, or- if she looked on the darker side of things- until the Peacekeepers arrived to take her away.

Just as she was wondering how their mentor would react to how recklessly stupid she had been, she heard the elevator chime from behind her and turned just in time to see Peeta stepping out, looking nowhere near as distressed as she was. Katniss took that as an encouraging sign, and felt her heart lighten knowing that Peeta's demonstration most likely went well after her disaster- that was, until he spotted her and one of his eyebrows rose in her direction.

"Alright, so what did you do?" He asked her, his voice laced with suspicion and his gaze skeptical.

"Nothing." She responded quickly. Too quickly. She cursed herself under her breath and chose to look at a spot over Peeta's shoulder instead of his eyes. There were only three people in the world that she had trouble lying to; her mother, her father and Peeta.

"Then why did the Gamemakers look like they had just been hit by a truck?" He asked incredulously, edging closer. The look on his face was silently daring her to meet his gaze. Obviously, he had picked up the expressions on the Gamemakers' faces. She suspected that shattered glasses and fallen wigs hadn't gone unnoticed either. All of that, combined with the fact that Katniss wasn't looking straight into Peeta's eyes, would be evidence enough for his suspicions.

Still not looking directly at him, she laced her fingers through his and started tugging him along. "Let's... catch the scores first. And then I'll tell you what happened."

Peeta shrugged as he started following her, their interlinked hands swinging momentarily in the air. She could feel his suspicious gaze boring a hole through the back of her head, trying to decipher her behavior. She could easily imagine the look on his face. One of his brows would be subconsciously higher than the other, his eyes would be narrowed and a barely noticeable cleft would appear on his chin. If she wasn't the one who was at the receiving end of said expression, she would've said that it was incredibly cute.

Haymitch and Effie were already seated in front of the mammoth television screen. Effie seemed to be admonishing Haymitch about one obscure and unfathomable branch of etiquette or another, to which Haymitch would occasionally grumble out a sarcastic or sadistic remark that would make Effie gape and start the cycle all over again. When Katniss and Peeta entered the room, both Effie and Haymitch broke off the conversation abruptly and looked up.

"How did it go?" Haymitch asked, with a mild look of interest on his face. It was progress, from the bored, callous indifference.

"Well enough," Peeta replied, shooting a sidelong glance at Katniss. "We'll talk after we see the scores."

Katniss released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and nodded fervently at Peeta's words. She squeezed Peeta's hand in hers as a silent thanks. Haymitch gave both of them an incredulous and wary look before he shrugged. Katniss suspected that their non-verbal conversations bothered Haymitch more than he let on, and sooner or later he would demand them to cut the crap.

Peeta plopped onto the plush couch and brought Katniss down alongside him. Cinna and Portia joined the room moments later, their eyes inconspicuously flickering between hers and Peeta's joint hands, just as Caesar Flickerman's beaming face sprouted up on television. Caesar made the usual announcements regarding the Hunger Games, welcomed everyone to the show and enthused on how these were possibly going to be the best Games ever. He then proceeded to announce that the scores of the private session with the Gamemakers would now be televised, starting from District One.

Katniss was seized with a sudden bout of panic.

"Has anyone ever gotten a zero?" She asked, trying to keep her voice as nonchalant as possible.

Haymitch narrowed his eyes in her direction. "There's a first time for everything."

Her eyes widened at Haymitch's words before she quickly looked away, back at the screen. Peeta ran the pad of his thumb slowly over the skin of her hand, an oddly soothing gesture that managed to abate her panic, if only slightly. Just as the face of the District One female flashed up, a large 'ten' appeared on the screen.

"Surprise, surprise," Peeta said in a low voice, his jaw taut and set firmly, grey eyes calculating.

Katniss didn't respond. She couldn't keep her eyes away from the screen, even though she desperately wanted to when she watched the nines and tens flashing up besides the faces of the Career Tributes. Caesar kept up a steady feed of commentary, describing the predictions and the results regarding the scores achieved by each individual tribute. Cato, the District Four male, and District One female scored tens, while Marvel and the girls from Four and Two scored a nine each. The rest of the scores ranged from poor to mediocre at best.

Katniss's heart started beating erratically inside her ribcage as District Eleven flashed up. She wasn't surprised when the male tribute- Thresh, so that was his name- scored a nine, which was apparently shocking news for Caesar. Even little Rue had scored a rather remarkable _seven_, which was in Katniss's opinion the most startling score of the evening.

Seconds later Katniss's own face popped up onto the screen, accompanying a number.

Her heart stopped.

_Eleven._

She gawked noiselessly at the television screen.

"But... wha... how...?" She sputtered incomprehensibly, staring at the number in complete astonishment.

Effie let out a shrill squeak and everyone else gaped wordlessly at the large flashing number. Cheers and shouts of congratulation suddenly erupted in the room, as Cinna, Portia and Effie crowed in their excitement. She was pleased when she saw the absolutely stunned, but faintly impressed look on Haymitch's face. For the first time since the Reaping, he had been rendered completely speechless, and the fact was almost as satisfying as the eleven shining a radiant silver onscreen and Caesar's enthusiastic ramblings. Peeta looked astounded, incredulous and pleased at the same moment as he stared at her in wonder.

The room instantly quietened when, seconds later, Peeta's face appeared on the screen. Katniss, confident in his abilities, took the moment to silently admire how well the image did him justice, capturing the straight slope of his nose, that angle of his mouth and the intensity of his strikingly grey eyes.

A large ten appeared besides his face.

The air was once again filled with cheers of delight and excitement as everyone offered Peeta congratulations and thumped him on the back. Peeta wore a look that was a mixture of surprise and great satisfaction. Katniss was elated when she realized her plan had worked, if only partially. She had scored an eleven- one-up from Peeta's score. Although the both of them would soon be the center of attention for both the Careers and the Gamemakers, the spotlight would now be split between them and not solely focused on Peeta. Considering she had thought she would be the very first to receive a zero, she took that as a victory.

Haymitch was the only one that had remained quiet through the whole development. His Seam eyes were moving back and forth between her and Peeta, his brain noiselessly analyzing the scores. His eyes stopped directly at her and narrowed slightly.

"What did you do?" He repeated Peeta's question from earlier in the evening.

Katniss restrained a flinch. She knew Haymitch would catch on sooner or later. She fidgeted in her seat, trying desperately to avoid Haymitch's penetrating gaze and the curious ones she was now receiving from the rest of their party. She decided to get straight to the point since the stalling was only prolonging her discomfort.

"I threw a knife at the Gamemakers."

"You what?" Effie shrieked, her voice horror-struck.

"I threw a knife at them. Well, I mean, not exactly at them, but in their general direction," she said. At the memory, her fury from earlier returned, breaking into her voice. "I was throwing my knives and they were just ignoring me! And… I-I just lost my head and- I skewered the stupid apple out of their stupid roasted pig's mouth!" She continued defiantly, conveniently skipping her ulterior motives.

"And what did they say?" Peeta asked carefully. His voice was bare of even the slightest hint of emotion. Katniss had an inkling that he knew exactly what her real intentions were.

"Nothing- I don't know. I walked out." Katniss stated with exasperation.

"Without being dismissed?" Effie gasped, looking mortified.

"Well, I couldn't just stay and show them my fabulous knot-tying skills." Katniss responded flatly. "But why would they even give me such a high score?" She addressed Haymitch, genuinely confused.

He shrugged. "Guess they liked your temper." Haymitch replied easily. His eyes held a riveted look that Katniss had never seen on his face before, and in that moment she suddenly she caught a flash of the Haymitch Abernathy who had won the Hunger Games- and the calculating, skilled Mentor he could be. Once you got him away from the booze long enough, anyway. "They need a good show. And you both are giving them some heat."

Katniss and Peeta looked at each other again. Peeta's face held an intense look and his eyes seemed to be penetrating into her mind. A flash of displeasure crossed his irises, one that was silently condemning her for her actions. But then it turned into an odd kind of acceptance, something that was reciprocated in Katniss's own expression. He knew that if he wasn't backing down, then neither was she. And he accepted it.

Katniss suddenly felt lighter, like a huge boulder that had been crushing down on her had been lifted off her chest. Peeta's eyes sparked up, the disapproval disappearing and instead was replaced by pride. She realized with a deep sense of satisfaction that he was a little proud of her actions too. He was proud that she had made a stand against the Gamemakers, no matter how much trouble that would eventually result in. His face held admiration for her actions and involuntarily a corner of his mouth twitched into an amused smirk.

"What were their face like," he asked, "the Gamemakers?"

Katniss couldn't help the laugh that burst forth, bubbling out of her in a mix of relief and pure mirth. "Terrified. Ridiculous. Hilarious." She grinned widely. "One of them tripped backwards into the bowl of punch."

Peeta laughed loudly and she gladly joined him. Haymitch choked on his drink and another round of laughter started which included everybody but Effie, who was smothering a smile with considerable difficulty. As the laughter died down, Portia spoke up.

"What did _you_ show them, Peeta?" she asked, leaning forward in her seat, eagerly.

Peeta shrugged. "They already looked pretty staggered. Everyone was really focusing on me; that's how I knew something was up. So, I just showed them some archery. The ranges were too short, though."

"What did you do about that?" Cinna intervened. Everyone turned their attention to Peeta, curiously. Katniss realized that for everyone else in the room, Peeta's ten was also surprising news. She had been surprised to see the ten, but it hadn't been unbelievable news, considering his skills- she knew he could probably snag himself an eight or higher, if he figured a creative way to show off. But she was the only person in the room who had already been acquainted with his talent beforehand. Nobody else could actually know or even begin to believe the extent of his skill until they actually saw him shoot.

"I asked a trainer if they had any moving targets I could shoot instead, and fortunately they came up with some clay birds. I shot them down."

"And _that_ explains it all." Katniss joked, with a teasing smile in his direction.

Peeta shrugged modestly. "I got it because everybody was already paying attention to me. I wouldn't have gotten more than a seven if you hadn't pulled the stunt that you did." He sent her a mock glare, gently prodding her arm. Struggling with her own smile, Katniss slapped him away playfully, feeling giddy with happiness and relief.

Everybody congratulated them one last time before they started to leave for bed. Katniss stood up, heading for her room and Peeta followed her wordlessly. She stood outside the door of her bedroom and looked at Peeta who was leaning against his own door, neither of them ready to part. She examined his face silently and moved closer until she was standing directly in front of him. He looked a little exhausted, his shoulders were slightly slumped and there was the barest hint of dark circles beneath his eyes.

She ran her thumb across the violet shadows beneath his eyes, as though she could wipe them away. His eyelids closed involuntarily as he sighed, before he leaned forwards and buried his face in the crook of her neck. She toyed with his hair as they both stood quietly, taking comfort from each other's presence.

"You having nightmares?" She asked in a low voice, running her fingers through his ebony locks.

He gave a barely noticeable shake of his head. "I'm just worried about Prim and my mother." He paused momentarily. "And you."

"They're going to be fine," she said, comfortingly, completely ignoring the part about herself. "They've got Gale, remember? And my mom and dad love Prim. They'll take care of her too."

"I know." He mumbled into her neck, tickling her skin. He looked up, briefly and continued. "I have been worrying about them for so long. I just don't know how to stop. It's become a habit."

She nodded understandingly. She still remembered the little eleven year old boy she had befriended. At that time, he would barely talk, let alone about his problems at home. She recalled her desire to make him smile and the deep feeling of triumph she felt when he laughed at one of her jokes for the very first time, and the way his grim eyes had lit up. Remembering the boy from her memory and the Peeta who currently had his head buried into her neck, she couldn't help but feel the difference. And she couldn't help but feel irrepressibly glad of it. The eleven year old Peeta would never have told her of his worries and would never have let her comfort him. The only thing that remained unchanged between the two was his fierce desire to protect the ones he loved.

Peeta inhaled deeply and wrapped an arm around her waist. She felt a rush of warmth flow through her system as she looked at the boy in her arms.

"Just try to forget, okay?" She whispered against the shell of his ear. "Only for a little while, just try to forget."

He nodded wordlessly into her neck. There was silence for a few moments before Peeta lifted her head and spoke up. She could see his eyes brimming with emotion.

"I swear if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I'll…" He started warningly. For a moment he tried to find the right words, before he abandoned his attempts and trailed off.

"I just wanted them to know, you know?" She said. She played lightly with the collar of his shirt, the tips of her fingers grazing his neck lightly. "I just wanted to show them, just for a moment, that they don't own me… that I'm more than just a piece in their Games."

"I think you just did that," Peeta replied after a moment of contemplation, "when you threw that knife at the Gamemakers."

"It still won't stop them," she said angrily, being unusually pessimistic. Normally he would be the one spewing out anger directed at the Capitol and she would be the one reassuring him. But the worlds had turned so drastically in such a short moment of time that this small change didn't seem so surprising. "It won't _ever _change anything."

"It may take a crowd to protest but it only takes one person to make a stand, Katniss." Peeta said in a light voice. He leaned his forehead against hers. "And though it may bring no change, you still made a stand."

"That doesn't make a difference though. We both can't get out of this alive." She whispered, a little shakily. She looked directly into his stormy eyes and the look he gave her -one of quiet desperation and a grim, silent promise- made her voice thicken involuntarily. "What are the odds that even one of us gets out alive?"

He kissed her lightly once, before he murmured, "You never know, Katniss. The odds might just be in our favor."

* * *

**So guys, tell me what you think maybe? I want to know whether you liked the chapter, what you think should happen next, what you liked and what you hated. Do you think I got the characters right? Do you want to suggest something that needs to happen? Tell me everything!**

**Guys I just got my CIE result for my O'levels! I got eight As :) so happy :'D**

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**-EG**


	9. Chapter 8

**I AM SORRY FOR MY LATENESS. *avoids flying brick* Umm...wow this is my longest interval between two updates ;-; *sobbing* Anyway, I just started my A'levels and in a new school! You have to understand my plight. I took six subjects for my A'levels. (Yes, I think I am crazy) and I also started tuition for SAT preparation. I literally have zero time nowadays ;-; BUT, I'm already working on the next chapter and I promise it will be with you much sooner :***

**Here, have this super long and exciting chapter. I am a little proud of how it turned out c:**

**A HUMONGOUS thanks to my beta, C.J. Ellison. I have no words for your level of amazing. Seriously, you should be like a professional editor or something. You keep this story together :3**

**Disclaimer: Nope. Still don't own anything :c**

* * *

Chapter 8

Peeta

* * *

_We'll be raising our hands_

_Shinning up to the sky_

_'Cause we got the Fire Fire Fire_

_Yeah we got the Fire Fire Fire_

_And we're gonna let it Burn Burn Burn Burn _

* * *

Peeta rolled out of bed sharply as a persistent banging on the door threatened to bend its hinges out of place. Groaning, lying on the icy floor and trying half-heartedly to sink back into the pleasant haze of sleep, Peeta heard enthusiastic exclamations of what a big, big, big day it was penetrating the mahogany door- and silently cursed the day that Effie Trinket was introduced to the world.

Grumbling blearily to himself, he dressed and proceeded to the dining room, the events of the previous nights replaying themselves vividly in his mind. Fleetingly, he wondered how District Twelve had reacted to his and Katniss' scores- and more importantly, what Prim and Gale would have thought, when they saw the large silver ten and eleven flash on upon the screen erected in the Town Square. He knew that Prim would have been excited, even hopeful, that one of them might return. Her cornflower blue eyes, so like Katniss', would have shone all night. And as for Gale- well, he knew that Gale would've skipped the celebration and immediately recognized that something was amiss, ever the master of analysis. Peeta could almost hear his best friend's voice inside his head, though, a smirk in his tone as he jested:_ "Ten? Well, there's room for improvement there."_

He felt a jolt of longing as he thought about Gale and his little sister. What were they doing at this time of the day? Was Gale sitting alone in their spot in the woods, watching the sun make its ascent? Was Prim in school, or in town, or tending to Lady and Buttercup? Were they thinking about him too?

He shook his head to clear the heavy feeling that had taken residence upon his heart.

Peeta felt another bubble of unease rising up inside of him when he realize -running over the Games' usual schedule in his head- that tomorrow would be the night of the interviews. _Oh, fantastic. _Peeta hardly talked to anyone just for the sake of talking; he had no idea how he was going to face the entirety of Panem in one go, even if it was just for a hundred and eight seconds. Just the thought of facing the cloyingly bright citizens of the Capitol en mass, and being forced to make the richest of the over-painted mannequins _like_ him- which, by the way, he had no idea how to do- made him shudder. He loathed to admit it, but he had done all that he could do, and now his fate had been handed over to the people of the Capitol and their insane, gore-hungry whims. With him not exactly having what could be considered an overly pleasant personality, he desperately hoped that Katniss' own charisma was enough to see her through the ordeal unscathed- because tonight, he was going to be of absolutely no help at all.

When he stepped into the dining room, everyone else was already seated around their breakfast. There was a general chorus of 'morning' which he acknowledged with a nod of his head. Katniss beckoned him over to the empty seat besides herself and he took time to silently admire her change of wardrobe. He presumed that she was still in her high spirits from the other night because she was wearing a brighter contrast of clothes; an orange shirt, the neckline tastefully dipped into a V, and tanned calf-length khakis.

He took his seat and started digging into the perfect and full stack of steaming pancakes that had just been set in front of him. An Avox loaded the stack with deliciously runny syrup that dripped from the sides and made his stomach grumble. He took a large bite and looked up inquiringly in Haymitch's direction.

"Don't wait for me," he said with a full mouth, not sure if Haymitch comprehended his speech. When Haymitch curled a lip in a disgusted manner, Peeta motioned for him to continue with his hand, all the whilst thinking that their mentor had a lot of gall to look disgusted when he was the one who was most regularly found face-down in his own vomit.

"As I was saying, since the both of you have asked to be trained together, you'll both have four hours of interview prep with Effie, and then another four hours with me," Haymitch informed them, a bit sour at the prospect.

"_Four hours?"_ Peeta asked, scrunching his nose in distaste.

"Yes, four hours," Effie chirped, taking a little sip from her wineglass and then dabbing the corner of her mouth with a napkin, daintily. "Though it doesn't seem like nearly enough. Really, you two are both proving to be quite the success so far, but it only means that you'll have to work twice as hard to live up to the hype! You can't disappoint your prospective sponsors tonight, do you understand? We need to educate you properly before tonight, and you both have so much left to learn!"

Katniss met Peeta's disgusted look with an amused one of her own. She squeezed his hand from under the table supportively, a silent promise that they would weather the storm together. Peeta lowered his gaze onto his half-empty plate to contain the smile that was threatening to break across his mouth. Here they were, waiting to be thrown into a bloodthirsty arena in a fight to death, and they were shuddering in the wake of the glittery, effervescent horror that was Effie Trinket.

He couldn't imagine what Effie had to teach them that could take four hours, but nonetheless, she worked them up to the very last minute. He was the lucky one, however; Katniss' instructions were far more elaborate than his own, and included a good two and a half hours of learning how to balance and walk correctly in high heels and a floor-length evening gown. The first time she tried standing upright in the delicate shoes, she immediately overbalanced and might have twisted her ankle if it weren't for Peeta's reflexes, who caught her safely in his arms the split second he saw her waver. For the rest of the session, Peeta had to restrain himself from rushing to her side every time she stumbled, constantly on edge as Effie jabbed at her spine to correct her posture, sparking many heated exchanges between the two. And after that taste of hell was concluded, with an hour and a half still left, Effie proceeded to drag them through the subtle nuances of formal etiquette, instructed them how to behave in front of an audience and ordered them to sit straighter in their chairs until Peeta thought his back would start to bend backwards instead of slumping forwards. When appropriate postures had been taken care of, there was still the matter of hand gestures, proper eye contact and of course, the art of creating a winning, approachable smile.

By the time their four hours were over, Katniss was massaging the arches of her feet and muttering under her breath, and Effie was still horrendously chipper. Peeta was going crazier by the second; he was sure he was going to crack if he had to spend another second in Effie's presence. Between their two mentors, he had thought Effie might be the lesser evil, but now he was starting to reconsider his choice. He rubbed a hand across his cheeks, the muscles in his face aching from an excessive amount of smiling, something he never thought was quiet possible until now.

"Well, it's the best I can do under this amount of time," Effie sighed. She then turned towards Peeta, offering him one last smile which seemed to be taking a lot of effort. "Just remember: you want the audience to like you."

"And you don't think they will?" He asked flatly, vitriol and sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"Not if you keep up with this attitude!" Effie snapped for the first time. When she realized that the volume of her voice had risen, she breathed in deeply, gave her head a slight shake, peach-colored ringlets skimming her cheeks, and plastered a forced smile on her face. "Peeta, remember that these people are your friends. They're here to _help _you."

"They are not my _friends!"_ Peeta burst out, curling his fingers into fists. "They are betting on my life!"

Resigned, Effie dropped her plastic smile. "Then... just try to _pretend. _Whatever works. Just try to be somewhat engaging tonight. _Please."_ She tacked on wearily, and with no small amount of aggravation.

Peeta had opened his mouth to retort back angrily when he caught Katniss eyeing him from her position at the couch. She gave him a reprimanding glance and slightly shook her head, as though telling him just to drop it. Peeta closed his mouth with a snap and promptly turned away. His frustration seemed to be increasing with time, so before he said something he might regret at some point, he stomped out of the room and stalked towards the dining area. Thankfully, lunch had already been served. He loaded his plate with any dish that caught his eye and used the food as an excuse to avoid conversation throughout lunch.

Katniss kicked his foot under the table. He stabbed his fork extra violently into his steak.

The afternoon saw no improvement in Peeta's mood. Haymitch stood before him and Katniss as they sat on a couch and raked his gaze over them both thoroughly.

"Well?" Peeta asked finally.

"I'm trying to decide what to do with the two of you," Haymitch responded as he rubbed his chin absentmindedly. "Of course, presenting you as a readymade team is the obvious approach at this point, so we'll just have to go with that. Still…" He trailed off, his eyes narrowing in thought.

"What?" Katniss prompted, reproachfully. She started to fiddle with the end of her braid.

"We need an angle," Haymitch answered. He seated himself on an armchair across from them, one ankle resting across his knee. "Right now you two are shining like stars. Big volunteering drama, acing the opening ceremonies, the training scores- you're gold in that respect. But the audience doesn't know anything about you. What are you like? Are you menacing? Are you nice? Humble? Clever? Fierce? What's your story? The impression you make now may just make or break your time in the arena."

As much as Peeta hated to admit it, he knew Haymitch was correct. He had been watching tribute interviews all his life. It didn't really matter- funny or dramatic or eccentric or brutal, if you appealed to the crowd, you gained their favor. And favor led to sponsorship straight from the big, fat, overfilled pockets of the Capitol citizens.

"So what's our approach?" Peeta inquired.

Haymitch debated on his answer before he decided to reply. "Well, Katniss here has a naturally lively and likeable personality. I've got no worries there. Whereas, you, Peeta…Well, I guess you could be bearable if you can keep that scowl of your face for long enough."

"I do not scowl!" He responded, heatedly.

Haymitch shrugged his protest away. "Please. You're just proving my point. Anyway, the key is to attract the audience, but with the right amount of mystery so that you can keep the people hanging onto the edge of their seats. Now, I'll interview each of you separately and I want you to pretend that I'm the audience." Haymitch spread his hands in the air. "Delight me."

Haymitch motioned for Katniss to go first, and started asking her questions the ranged from how she liked the Capitol to her approach on the Games and even about the events of the Reaping. Katniss answered each and every one the questions cheerfully, artfully deflecting questions that invaded her private life and answering others with a charming sort of self-deprecating humor. Peeta was astounded by how easy she made it look. The interview went mostly smoothly, with Haymitch inserting words here and there or guiding her through the tricky questions.

Then came a question that left Katniss at a complete loss as to what to say.

"Certain rumors have arisen in the past few days regarding your relationship with your fellow tribute. Care to comment?" Haymitch asked, strategically, leaning forwards and resting his elbows on his knees.

Katniss faltered. All week, the Capitol had been buzzing with gossips, rumors, wagers and bets- and most of them centered around them. It would have been a miracle if the matter wasn't addressed in the interviews. Katniss should have seen it coming. As she struggled to phrase her answer, Haymitch raised an eyebrow at her challengingly.

"And that, sweetheart, is where your ship hits the iceberg." He leaned back on his chair and comfortably settled his arms behind his head. Peeta opened his mouth to retort back when Katniss cut him off.

"Then tell me what to do." Katniss said, her tone solemn and her face clouded with worry. She pushed a stray strand of honey-blonde hair behind her ear and looked expectantly at Haymitch.

"You're supposed to be the mentor aren't you?" Peeta cut in. He hated the fact that his and Katniss' future depended on Haymitch. He still didn't trust the old drunk, even though all of Haymitch's previous advice had been proved worthwhile.

Haymitch only eyed Peeta with amusement which seemed to aggravate him further. His Seam grey eyes seemed hazy with the alcohol but Peeta spotted a hint of shrewd intelligence peeking from behind the fog. It was after another few seconds that Haymitch rubbed his hands together and decided to reply. "Alright. Here's what you've got to do."

* * *

Peeta woke up to find himself under the scrutiny of three pairs of eyes. He almost fell off his side when he saw his prep team hanging over his head like a trio of brightly-colored hawks eyeing their prey. His sessions with Haymitch and Effie were over. It was time for Portia to work her magic, his first line of defense onstage tonight. His prep team set him up for work almost immediately. They shaved his face afresh, dunked his hair in conditioner, shaped his nails and then commanded him to take the bath that had been prepared for him. The water was saturated with oils and moisturizers and soaps that left his skin tingling and gleaming when he came out. His prep team then styled his hair, getting in a minor argument of what kind of hair style would suit him best, if Portia had permitted them to tamper with it. Aurora thought that he should've worn it in curls, Trace said that waves would better compliment the structure of his face and Fray went all the way and told him to let it grow out- like Caesar Flickerman.

He sighed a breath of relief when Portia arrived and dismissed the prep team with a wordless flick of her wrist, and presented him with a padded garment bag, smiling. "Don't worry. No chance of singing your eyebrows off in this one."

Peeta grinned. "Only because Caesar Flickerman wouldn't risk his pompadour. Not with all that hairspray."

Portia laughed heartily before ordering him into his suit. It was a wonderful creation, tailored to strike a sleek, clean-cut silhouette, the coal-black fabric accented with subtle, startlingly realistic flames. Portia helped him dress and then commanded him to sit again so she could redo the few rebellious strands of his dark hair. As he headed towards the styling chair, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror: a dark, deadly figure, flickering with shades of ruby and brass-gold.

Portia redesigned his hair to look artfully mussed, cultured and messy at the same time, a minor feat that still managed to amaze him. Touching a few glossy strands into place, she appraised him carefully before dabbing a few drops of cool concealer onto the soft violet shadows under his eyes, gently erasing the stress and remnants of sleepless nights. He realized, as he noted that this was the one and only thing she had applied to his face, that whilst she was polishing him up for the Capitol, she was quietly refusing to make him into one of them.

"All set for the big interview?" Portia asked, fixing his tie, and snapping him out of his thoughts.

"I'm awful," he confessed, suddenly feeling like a child who had disappointed his favorite teacher. "Haymitch called me a dead slug. I didn't even qualify as one that was alive. A _dead_ slug."

Portia snorted loudly at his choice of words. She circled around him, fixing bits and pieces of his attire here and there with the serene grace of a lace-winged butterfly. Her utter serenity, in comparison to Peeta's nervous jitters, was jarring. "I know Haymitch can be a little... difficult. Have you even tried warming up to him? You know, just a little?"

He shook his head. A 'little' difficult was a huge understatement. "I just couldn't do it," he said, meeting her eyes. "I'm a terrible actor; I can't be anything or anyone he wants me to be."

Portia already knew that, though. Even in a suit that might have fed the entirety of the Seam for a full fortnight, in Portia's design, he still felt like Peeta Everdeen, hunter from District Twelve. His stylist looked thoughtful for a moment as she looked at him from his reflection in the mirror. "Have you tried being yourself?"

Peeta snorted. For a moment he thought Portia was joking before he caught the seriousness on her face. "Myself? I might as well run headlong into Cato's sword."

She grinned, her hazel eyes sparking up. She dusted imaginary dust particles from his shoulders. "I happen to like who you are," she informed him with a hint of pride in her voice. "And the prep team just adores you. And as for the citizens of the Capitol, well, they just can't stop talking about you and Katniss."

He stayed silent and pretended to think about what she had said, but Portia wasn't fooled. She took his hands in her much smaller ones, the tips of her nails each twinkling with a tiny rhinestone on midnight blue polish, like night stars. "Alright. How's this: if you were addressing a friend back home, who would you be talking to?"

"Gale," he responded, instantly, not needing to think twice about his answer. "But it doesn't make any sense, Portia. Gale already knows everything about me, I wouldn't be telling him any of this stuff. He wouldn't ask, anyway."

"What about me?" Portia asked, her ebony head tilted on one side. Her hair charm- a small, jeweled blue butterfly, funnily enough- sparkled. "Could you think of me as a friend?"

Peeta thought about her question, and realized that he already did. Of all the new people he had encountered in the past few days, he could easily say that he liked Portia the best. He had liked her right off and unlike most people she hadn't disappointed him yet. She was the only one who seemed to actually understand and sympathize with his situation.

"I think so," he told Portia honestly. A smile crept across her mouth.

"Then here's what I want you to do. I'll be sitting on the main platform with the other stylists. You'll be able to look right at me. When you're asked a question, I want you to find me, and answer it as honestly as possible," Portia said, giving him a determined and encouraging look.

"Even if what I think is horrible?"

Portia grinned widely and patted his cheek affectionately. "Trust me. You'll know what to do."

Portia squeezed his hand one last time before she started to lead him out of the room. It was when she turned the crystal doorknob when the reality of the situation finally decided to sink in. He realized that once he was out the door, it would only be a few moments before he would be on stage.

In front of the gigantic crowds.

In front of the cameras.

In front of all of Panem.

When his heart started to hammer in his chest and his mouth started to feel like sandpaper, vision swaying, he realized that he was completely overcome with stage fright. "Portia, I don't think I can do…" He started to say but she shushed him potently.

She looked at him straight in the eyes, gave his tie one last pull and said, with all the confidence in the world: "You are going to be amazing."

Portia dropped him off in front of the elevator where all the tributes had started to gather. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and headed off, strutting confidently in her strappy heels.

The tributes were filed into a single line so that they could be ushered onto the stage as soon as the show started, Peeta yielding without protest, too dazed and sick with nerves to do anything but. However, as he took his place at the last in line, Katniss walked up to stand before him- and his world stopped turning.

For a moment, he seemed to forget the interviews entirely as he took in her appearance. To say that Cinna was an absolute mastermind was nothing short of an insult. Katniss _glowed_, as though she had been imbued her with her own luminescence. The crimson dress that Cinna had designed for her wrapped around her like flames, with a taut, fitted bodice and a flowing satin skirt that moved in a fiery flourish at the slightest movement. It was covered entirely in reflective gems of red and yellow and white, chips of blue accenting the tips of the flame design. Her eyes and skin were dusted with a shimmer of golden glitter, her blonde hair braided in a complicated and elegant knot that started at the back of her head and flowed, down and over her shoulder, in a flaxen plait knitted with strands of copper and fire-red threads. The makeup that adorned her face was just right with pale shadows over her eyes, light color that drew out her cheekbones and ruby red lips, her mouth glossy beneath the backstage lights. As she walked up to him, it felt like she was moving in a halo of fire.

It was as though she had stolen the radiance of the sun itself. How could he possibly worry- about the Games, about the interview, about anything else in the cosmos- when she was stood in front of him, looking like... _that_?

He didn't realize he was staring until she stepped up right beside him and whispered, with a pleased smirk, "Close your mouth, Seam Boy."

He flushed and looked away. He search aimlessly for something to say but his mind had completely blanked out, leaving him tongue-tied and completely unable to put exactly how utterly dazzled she left him into words.

"You look…" He began, his throat closing up. He was about to run a hand through his hair before he remembered how much time it had taken Portia to get it right and he dropped it awkwardly to his side. He was never really good at giving compliments, especially to her, because he would never find the right thing to say. How exactly do you do justice to someone who means more to you than life itself using something as petty and inadequate as words? "…Really nice…"

She eyed him for a second, amused, and reached up to pinch his cheek. "And you look _nice_ too," she teased. He slapped her hand away.

The tributes were ushered onto the stage where they would be seated in an arc, set in such an angle that all the tributes would be visible on camera and the view would not be blocked by Caesar's chair, strategically centered beside the interviewee's in the middle of the arc. Peeta's heart starting thudding rapidly in his ribcage as he stepped on the stage to take his seat. Seeking for last moment of reassurance, he inconspicuously locked the pinkie of his hand with Katniss'. She gave his little finger a slight squeeze before letting go and settling herself in her seat. She met his eyes, passed him a meaningful look and mouthed, 'We can do this'.

Peeta nodded his head and took a large breath to calm his rapid heartbeat. In his head, he went over the conversation with Haymitch, recalling the instructions Haymitch had given them. Both he and Katniss and immediately objected to Haymitch's orders, but in the end they had both realized that it was the only thing to do.

"I telling you straight and simple. Just do what I say. Katniss you will go second last, before Peeta. Since District Twelve always has the last slot, it's harder to make a lasting impression- just like with the Gamemakers. So we need to tip the scales in our favor," Haymitch had told them. He had then looked at Katniss straight in the eyes and said. "When Caesar asks you about the reaping- which he will- I want you to tell him really happened. The truth. _All of it_, you understand?"

"What?!" Both Peeta and Katniss had exclaimed, abashed and horrified by the mere prospect of divulging their greatest secrets live on air.

"It may be your life, but it's a great tragic story," Haymitch continued in an impartial tone, completely ignoring their outbursts. "And the Capitol absolutely craves this kind of spectacle. Other than that, keep up the charade. Keep up the hinting but try to be as elusive as possible. The more curious they get about you, the longer they'll want to keep you alive."

_The longer they'll want to keep you alive. _Peeta focused his attention on the crowd and started searching through the ranks with his eyes. He spotted Portia almost immediately, sitting among an array of other stylists, right beside Cinna. She stood out amongst the crowd like an eagle amongst a flock of brightly colored parrots, a slender, elegant figure dressed in russet and bronze, only a few shades darker and richer than her skin. When she caught his eye, she sent him a wink, which he could spot even from such a distance away, and blew him a kiss.

The show commenced when Caesar Flickerman bounced onto the stage, shouting loudly into the microphone in his hand. His color of choice for this year was midnight blue- better than last year, when his color was red and he seemed to be bleeding or the year before, when it was green and he looked like he was constantly nauseous. His suit twinkled in the spotlight like stars on a clear night, his blue hair was slicked back over his head and when he opened his mouth to speak, Peeta could easily spot his tongue that was powdered blue. Caesar got the ball rolling by welcoming the audience and cracking a few jokes, self-deprecating and perpetually sporting an ice-white smile.

Glimmer, the girl from District One, was the first on the stage. Peeta wished he could have been the first to go, just so that he could get the whole ordeal over with. Now, he had to sit and watch the rest of his competition be intimidating or witty or charming while he had absolutely no angle at all. As the interviews proceeded, he easily caught a pattern; Haymitch wasn't the only one who had tried to give his tributes an angle. The girls from One and Four played up their beauty, dressed in provocative outfits. The big hounds from the Career Districts tried to intimidate their competition to death, while looking bold and buff in their attire. The fox like girl from Five appeared sly and cunning while the cripple from Ten tried to draw the sympathy of the crowd.

Peeta's attention was truly piqued when little Rue fluttered onstage. He could easily tell where Rue's stylist was going with the look; dressed in a gossamer gown, complete with wings and a little golden circlet atop her head. In her youth, she appeared the picturesque image of her innocence. Caesar treated her sweetly and complimented her, both on her look and her training score. When he asked her for her greatest strength, Rue replied quickly and surely, "I'm really fast. If they can't catch me, they can't kill me. So, don't count me out."

"I wouldn't in a million years," Caesar replied encouragingly, and the buzzer went off, signaling the end of the interview.

Peeta's palms had started to sweat; just one more to go and then it would be Katniss' turn. He rubbed his palms against his pants but the material wasn't absorbent, so they slid right off. Thresh walked up to Caesar next, all six-foot-three of him, his robust body built like an ox. He was quiet during the interviews, only answering the questions with a yes or a no. With his menacing look and his daunting physique, he easily got away with it. If Peeta had a built like Thresh, he was sure that he could've pulled off his usual sullen and hostile attitude.

His heart stopped when the buzzer signaled again and this time Katniss walked up to the center of the stage. By this time, Peeta was actually sure that he was more nervous for Katniss' sake than his own. She met his eyes one last time as she glided up to Caesar, her gown elegantly bringing up the rear. She didn't look nervous, but Peeta, who knew her so well, could easily see the apprehension within her expression, the nervous way her eyes fidgeted and how she had unconsciously clutched the fabric of her dress between her fingers. She shook hands with Caesar, hesitated for a negligible moment, and then gave him a winning smile. Peeta sighed with relief and settled a little deeper into his seat; she was going to do alright.

"So, Katniss. The Capitol must be quite a change from District Twelve. What's impressed you the most since you got here?" Caesar begun good-naturedly.

Katniss pretended to think for a moment. She let out a small hum before she replied, eyes sparkling with humor beneath her thick lashes: "Hard to decide, but... I think the biggest showstopper has to be the lamb stew."

Peeta controlled the half-relieved and half-amused laugh that threatened to escape his mouth. Caesar gave a hearty laugh and the crowd followed suit, easily enamored by the pretty girl in her gown blazing satin, and fascinated with her since day one. Peeta gave a relieved sigh; he wondered why he had even bothered to worry about her interview at all. She was in her element; wit and charm came to her as naturally as baking her favorite batch of cookies.

Caesar chuckled loudly and then said, "The one with the dried plums? Oh, I eat that by the bucketful."

Katniss pretended to examine Caesar's figure. "I'm afraid it's beginning to show, Caesar," she teased, an innocently concerned look taking over her face.

Another laugh issued from the crowd and this time Peeta couldn't help but join in, as inconspicuously as possible. For a moment he forgot about his own interview that would follow hers and just stared at her with adoring eyes. This was one of those things about her; no matter what situation they were in, she could always manage to make him laugh.

Caesar stared at his own belly, a terrified expression on his face. "My goodness. Is it really that bad? Salads for a month, then, I suppose," he joked as the chuckled died away, before sobering once more. "But I must say, Katniss, when you came out during the opening ceremonies my heart just stopped! What did you think about your costume?"

Katniss smiled at Caesar and then asked, cheerfully, "You mean _after_ I got over the fear of becoming a human torch?"

The laugh this time was much larger. Katniss continued over the noise from the crowd. "But other than that, I think Cinna was brilliant," she said, sending an adoring look in her stylist's direction. He smiled subtly, approvingly, encouragingly. It was a look that told her she was saying all the right things. "It was the most gorgeous costume I've ever seen… except for maybe this one. I can't believe I'm wearing this," she added, perfectly playing the role of a young girl completely mesmerized by the luxuries of the Capitol. She lifted her skirt and spread it out, so that the dress shimmered and gleamed under the luminosity of the spotlights, the light sparking of the facets of the gems encrusted onto the material. "I mean, just _look_ at it!"

The audience_ oohed_ in wonder. From the crowd, Peeta spotted Cinna looking proudly in Katniss' direction. Slowly, Cinna held up a finger and made a circling motion in the air. _Twirl_. Peeta's gaze darted back to Katniss and he knew that she had seen it too. Standing, she lifted her arms in the air and spun around in a little circle. The skirt of her dress whirled with a dramatic flourish, lifting up into the air in a blend of shimmering red, orange, yellow and the tinniest hint of blue. Peeta stared, transfixed along with the rest of the audience as the dress immolated her in flames, the sound of applause in his ears and swirling satin almost sounding like the roar of fire.

When Katniss halted, Caesar exclaimed in exuberant delight, voicing the audience's sentiments, "Oh, do it again, do it again!" Katniss spun in a circle once more. The longer the skirt was in the air, the more real the flames seemed to get. The audience was wild, clapping, hooting and shouting. Cameras that weren't trained on Katniss shifted to the modest Cinna. Katniss stopped again and was greeted by a protest from Caesar.

"Don't stop!" Caesar said, enthusiastically.

"I have to! I'm getting dizzy!" Katniss replied, giggling, and clutched Caesar's arm. Peeta's lip twitched. He knew that the nerves and the spinning was getting to her because, although she was probably the most cheery person he knew, he had seen her giggle maybe twice in his life. The foreign sound grated on him slightly, leaving him tense.

Caesar wrapped a protective arm around her waist to steady her. "Don't worry, I've got you. We don't want you following your mentor's footsteps, now do we?"

Laughter rung out in the air at the mention of Haymitch's now famous nosedive. The cameras that had been constantly trained on Katniss, and once or twice on Cinna, shifted their focus and landed on Haymitch who gave a mock bow. He then waved his hand dismissively and pointed the cameras back towards Katniss.

As the crowd quieted down Caesar turned towards Katniss once again. "Let's talk about that training score, shall we? _El-ev-en_. Care to share how that came about?"

Katniss blushed under Caesar's gaze and gazed up towards the Gamemakers' balcony. "I don't think I'm supposed to say anything," she said with a small smile and the Gamemakers nodded hastily in affirmation. "The only thing I can tell you is that it was _definitely_ a first."

"Ah, you're killing us, Katniss!" Caesar exclaimed, dramatically.

"I'm not spilling any beans today, Caesar," Katniss said with a grin. She pretended lock her lips and threw the invisible key into the audience. Caesar chuckled at her antics.

His next question made Peeta's heart drop.

"Well, Katniss, the people of the Capitol are just dying to find out- myself included, of course- what went down during your Reaping. Who was the little girl that you volunteered for? And what is your relationship to your District partner?"

The few remaining hairs on Peeta's arms stood up as a chill ran through him. He didn't know whether his heart was beating too fast to take notice or whether it had stopped working altogether. His stomach twisted unpleasantly and he clasped his fingers together tightly. Across the stage, he could see how Katniss had immediately sobered up; her shoulders were squarer and her posture was subtly more defensive. She took a deep breath and from the corner of her eye, she chanced a glance in his direction. The panic in her blue irises was muffled by the determination he could see in them. Painfully, for the hundredth time, he was reminded the reason she was doing this. She was doing this for him and it was a burden he wasn't sure that he could carry.

Slowly, tremulously, he gave the slightest nod. _We're in this together._

"Her name is Prim," Katniss said softly, her voice filled with adoration. All pretexts of pretend were gone from her voice and Peeta knew that the words she spoke next were going to be the truth. She breathed out deeply. "She's just twelve… and one of the sweetest girls I've ever known. You have probably already worked it out already, but she's-" A pause. "She's Peeta's little sister."

A hush fell over the crowd as quickly as fire blazing through a trail of oil. Peeta tried to keep his face expressionless as cameras from all around zoomed into his face. But he knew that his mask had slipped as soon as he saw his face upon the huge screens that hung all around; his eyes betrayed him, strained with warring emotions. He gulped inaudibly and stared ahead, not looking at anything in particular.

"And why did you volunteer for the little girl, Katniss?" Caesar prodded. Katniss took another few moments to think, contemplating her laced fingers, before she replied.

"Prim's one of the strongest people I know, but she would never even harm a fly," Katniss said, avoiding the question. She seemed to realize that her answer wasn't enough for Caesar or the citizens of the Capitol, because she added, "and I did it because Peeta would've done the same for me."

The crowd started to murmur curiously. From somewhere above him, a spotlight landed on his face so that he stood out amongst his seat between the rest of the Tributes. Then before Caesar could even open his mouth to tell her to elaborate, she took the initiative and spoke, the truth tumbling out.

"I volunteered for him," she declared boldly, her voice strong with pride yet tremulous with barely suppressed emotion. She was staring directly at the screen that was setup in her line of vision where the camera was trained on him, watching his every move. She swallowed hard but didn't look away. Peeta's breath was stuck in his throat. He couldn't look anywhere but at her face. "So that Prim wouldn't be torn away from her brother."

The crowd had gone so quiet, Peeta could hear the sound of his own breathing. His mind had gone blank, comprehending nothing but her voice and her words.

_Oh, Katniss..._

"I promised Prim that I would make sure that her brother returns back to her. And I'm going to keep that promise or die trying."

A buzzer sounded. Her time was up. Caesar opened his mouth abruptly only to close it shut with a snap, the king of interrogation himself struck dumb by a sixteen-year old's proud declaration. The crowd rose in uproar, shouting their confusion. The noise was deafening, the people in mass disorder.

All the while, Peeta could feel the gears grinding in their head. Why would Katniss want to save him? Why did she promise Prim that she would make sure that he returned? Deep amidst the hordes of people, he could see Haymitch's smug expression. But he himself could only feel a deep, hollow numbness that had settled itself around his heart like a muffling snowfall. He had known that she intended for him to win, but hearing it spoken aloud, in those exact words, in front of the whole nation of Panem, was something else entirely. The finality of her intentions seemed to finally register in his mind. It felt like the concluding stamp on a treaty; her words resounding back and forth in his brain with the finality of a death sentence.

He didn't remember his walk up to Caesar- only that his legs had somehow managed to lead him there. Desperately, through the numbness of his thoughts, he searched for Portia's face in the cacophony of color. His breath was still too fast and his throat still incapable of speech and he was just beginning to think that he might just black out from the sensory overload when he spotted her face looking calmly in his direction, as wonderfully familiar and simple as his father's leather hunting jacket. She seemed to realize his mad, desperate urge to run off the stage because the reprimanding look she shot him told him to stay where he was and pull it together, fast. Then, with a firm nod, she raised her hand in a thumbs up and blew him another kiss.

Caesar welcomed him to the stage and firmly shook his hand. Peeta steeled his resolve, concentrating on Caesar's words and Portia's face in the crowd alone. He drowned out the shouts from the audience and tried to narrow his line of vision, focusing, slowing time back down to its regular pace.

"So, Peeta. Don't blame me but we're just going to dive straight into things," Caesar began, giving him an easy smile. Peeta nodded, giving a miniscule, tight smile. "I think we can agree that we're all wondering about the same thing. What does Katniss mean to you, Peeta? And what do _you_ mean to her?"

His words were jammed by the lump in his throat. He eyes shot frantically to Portia's direction. He knew that he could never confess his true feelings for Katniss in front of all these people. He didn't think he was capable of such a feat but, perhaps, he could have told them to Portia- even if he wasn't in a situation where he was compelled to do so. She'd give a secret smile, he thought- declare that it was obvious and that the two made a beautiful couple, before carefully snipping a loose thread in his cuff.

Portia was staring at his face intently. From a screen on his left he spotted Katniss' blue eyes trained in his general direction. When he spoke, he looked directly at Portia and pretended that he was talking to her.

"I owe Katniss my life," he said. His voice, which sounded oddly hollow to his ears, echoed through the City Circle that was once again blanketed by silence, taut and tense as a bowstring. The words were coming from his mouth but he felt like a spectator from the crowd, listening to his own voice instead of sitting on the stage. Portia nodded her head in a silent motion for him to carry on.

"In... more ways than just one," he continued. He wasn't thinking about what he was saying but just turning the truth of his thoughts into words, repeating her name in his head like a mantra, like a prayer. "She saved my life when she volunteered for Prim…and before that…"

"Go on," Caesar encouraged, actually perched on the edge of his curved throne.

Peeta couldn't believe what possessed him to tell the story, only that his mind had solely started to believe that he was talking to Portia and not to the whole country of Panem. "When I was eleven, my father passed away in a mining accident… We got some money but, eventually, inevitably, it ran out," he said, his voice low but still reverberating sharply through the silent city. He paused for a moment as the night in the rain replayed itself vividly in his mind and unconsciously he felt his voice thicken. "We were starving. Prim, my mother and I… and I couldn't do anything about it. Then one night... in the rain... I-I almost gave up... but Katniss..."

_Katniss,_ he thought. Beautiful, _beautiful_ Katniss. Katniss, smeared in flour and wrapped in a cream apron, her hair swept up and back in a twist. Katniss, walking by his side in the woods outside the fence, her hair and eyes glinting in the morning sun. Katniss, warm and smiling in his arms, laughing into his eyes. Katniss, smiling with Prim. Katniss, with snowflakes gathered in her hair. Katniss, with her fingers tangled in his.

And Katniss, standing in the rain like an angel of mercy, offering a hazelnut loaf, still scorching hot from the bakery ovens.

"She helped me." He paused again, his eyes flicking to her radiant image displayed on various screens before he returned his gaze towards Portia. "She gave me some bread… and it was just enough to get through me until I knew how to stand on my own feet. As I said before… I owe her my life."

The silence that greeted him was so quiet that for a moment he actually wanted the crowd to say or shout something. The noise and uproar like before. _Anything._ Even Caesar looked as if the story had affected him somehow, because it was only after a few seconds that he spoke.

"And what do you think about this situation, Peeta?" Caesar asked. "Where inevitably there can only be one Victor?"

Peeta could feel the crowd sitting at the edge of their seats, hanging on his each word like their life depended on it. He could no longer feel the silence, only the heavy thudding resonating in his ears. For the first time since the interviews started, he turned his gaze away from Portia, and looked at the screen where the camera was trained on Katniss. Her expression was unreadable but he could see emotion flickering in her crystalline blue irises. As he looked at her through the camera, she had never looked so beautiful to him before.

So he did the only thing that he could've done: he told the truth.

"I am in love with Katniss Mellark and I'm going to make sure she comes back home, even if I have to personally kill the other twenty-two tributes myself."

* * *

**Yayy a little cliffie :D And welcome back badass Peeta xD Don't worry guys he'll be staying for the rest of the story and the Games are gonna start in the next chapter yayy, so excited! :'D**

**So guys, tell me what you think maybe? I want to know whether you liked the chapter, what you think should happen next, what you liked and what you hated. Do you think I got the characters right? Do you want to suggest something that needs to happen? Tell me everything!**

**Question: What AU character from this story do you like the best? I think I really like the AU Portia :D**

**Song is Burn by Ellie Goulding (Another question: Do you guys like my song choices? If not I'm all ears for suggestions!)**

**Thankyou for reading! :3**

**-EG xoxo**


	10. Chapter 9

**Hello my lovelies c: This update is sooner from the last so yayyy :D So things are getting pretty spiced up :D Exciting! Personally, this is one of my favorite chaps c: So, without further ado,**

**A round of applause for my beta C.J. Ellison and,**

**Disclaimer: I'll own the Hunger Games when Voldemort gets a nose.**

* * *

Chapter Nine

Peeta

* * *

_So here you are, two steps ahead and staying on guard_

_Every lesson forms a new scar_

_They never though you'll make it this far_

_But turn around, oh they've surrounded you_

_It's a showdown, and nobody comes to save you now_

_But you've got something they don't_

* * *

Peeta didn't sleep at all that night. He knew that he needed to be well rested for the coming day but he couldn't get his mind to shut off, no matter how much he tried. Sometime after midnight, he heard the door of his room creak open and he was greeted by Katniss' dark silhouette. She padded over to his bed and lay down opposite him noiselessly. Neither of them said anything as they lay together, barely touching, simply basking in each other's mere presence. He couldn't see her face properly in the darkness- just the sharp profile of her nose, the dip of her cheekbones and dark outline of her closed eyelids. He sighed as he observed her face, his eyes flicking back and forth so he could memorize every single feature. When the time came, he wanted to be able to remember the little freckle at the corner of her lower lip and small chickenpox scar above her left eyebrow and how her caramel hair curled when it wasn't tied in a braid. He sighed again and adjusted his head deeper into his pillow.

His thoughts started to wander and he thought about everything there was to think about. He thought about Prim and how he would do anything just to see her face one more time. His mind drifted to Gale and he wished he had remembered to tell him that he was free to use his bow. He wondered whether his friends from the Hob would miss him- Darius, Greasy Sae, Rhubba. And then he wondered whether his mother would ever bother to miss him too. The thought pained him somehow, and seeking for a moment of comfort, he grabbed Katniss' hand in the darkness.

He started playing with her fingers to distract him from the path his thoughts were currently venturing on. He rubbed the pad of his thumb against the glossy ridges of her flame patterned nails, the only part of her makeup that she still had on. He closed his eyes and started thinking about her then and about how much time that they had left together. Visions flashed across his closed eyelids. Of them when they were kids, sharing cookies and wild berries at lunch. Of when they grew up too soon for their age and he took her to the woods for the first time. Of their first kiss and the countless others that followed.

And then he saw a flickering of what had never happened, and now never would. He saw an older Katniss who had taken over the bakery from her father. He saw himself coming home to her with a loaded bag of game. He saw a little home, and maybe a little happiness too. Prim could've been a healer. And maybe they could've invited Gale and his family over on Sundays. Peeta shut his eyes even tighter to prevent the building tears from escaping. For a person who had never wanted to get married or start a family, he had subconsciously begun to dream of things that could never be possible, even if they were still home. Even if they hadn't been reaped.

He dropped Katniss' hand and started playing with a strand of her long blonde hair, tying and untying knots out of it like the snares he used to make back home. His mind started to turn again; would he need snares to catch his prey in the arena? Or would there be an alternate source of food like fruit trees, or maybe a freshwater stream? He prayed silently that he would get a forest or jungle landscape; anything as close as to the woods at home. It would be ten times as difficult from him to survive in a desert or a rocky landscape because he was so dependent on trees- for food, shelter, camouflage, even hunting. Once his mind had strayed to the arena, he couldn't stop thinking about what obstacles he might have to face. Mutts? Earthquakes? Feasts? Would he even survive the bloodbath?

He drifted off into a fitful sleep, emerging from and surrendering to the darkness more times than he could count. His half-awake mind was muddled with images and thoughts that made no sense. He could hear the death-signal cannons going off in his head, and every time he heard the ricocheting sound he would be snatched away from his sleep, only to fall back under a few moments later.

It was when he could see the first streaks of dawn breaking through the window that he heard an almost inaudible sniffle in the darkness. It was a miracle how quickly his mind cleared from the sleep induced fog that hung over his head. His arm immediately stretched outwards and he pulled Katniss closer to himself, the feel of her touch burning his skin. She pressed her face into his shoulder and he felt a tear soak into his shirt. He rubbed a soothing hand up and down her arm and felt her body began to shake slightly. There were no words in the world that he could say at that moment that could make their situation any better, so he kept quiet. What could he say anyway? It's _okay?_ It wasn't. It's fine because they're together? But they wouldn't be for much longer. He own throat tightened and his eyes started to burn. He never really could bear to see her cry.

"This is so unfair." Katniss whispered in a thick voice, letting out a small hiccup. She adjusted her position and placed her head at his shoulder, before reaching a hand to wipe a trail of tears from her cheeks. The action was futile as more tears quickly followed suit. His heart clenched pathetically in his chest.

He let out a bitter laugh. "When have our lives ever been fair?"

Suddenly, the aching feeling in his chest was replaced by anger. All he could see was the injustice of the situation and all he could feel was the red-hot fury brewing in his chest. Why did he have to struggle to get food on the table? What did Katniss do to deserve the Games? Why couldn't _they_ ever be happy? A sudden burst of emotion was bubbling up in his heart, a mixture of rage, bitterness and resentment. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to hurt the Capitol. He wanted to hurt them, like they had hurt him and he wanted to snatch away their lives, like they had done his. He curled his fingers around his bedspread, balling the fine linen into his fists.

Katniss was quiet. He looked away from her face; he could feel his agony amplify the longer he looked at it. He remembered the days when the two of them were just friends, with obvious feelings for each other, tiptoeing around the elephant in the room. When they had finally come around, he had told her that it wasn't going to work. They had screamed and shouted and cried but he was adamant; nothing like this could ever work as long as they were in District Twelve or even Panem as a whole. Besides, he didn't want a family anyway. He didn't want a girl that he would fail to provide for. He didn't want kids who would be ripped apart from him and subjected to the constant horror of the reaping as soon as they turned twelve; he wouldn't condemn them to such a fate.

He wanted to laugh again. He was right all along, wasn't he? Maybe if he hadn't succumbed to his feelings he could've avoided the relentless twisting ache in his chest or the constant sting in his eyes. At least then, he would still be cold and heartless, less prone to the heartbreak and anguish he was feeling right now. And Katniss wouldn't be here. They wouldn't be together but she would be at home, in front of the television screen instead of on it. Wasn't this a sacrifice he should be willing to make?

Her hand came up and she ran her fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his eyes. He concentrated on the feel of her touch, the soft pressure of her fingers winding their way through his hair. He wanted to memorize the feeling. He wanted to remember the feel of her fingers intertwined between his, he wanted to remember the rich sound of her laugh, and he wanted to remember her startling crystalline eyes, the sight of which he would never get used to. As he mulled this over, he realized that there was still a small part of his brain that didn't regret the decisions he made and how the two of them turned out. If he was going to die anyway, did it matter how he spent the living part of his life? He wasn't happy back in District Twelve, but he was content. He was content, just scraping through his life and he was content in just_ being_ with her. It was enough, enough that he could endure the rest.

The only way he could ever experience that feeling now was if he died making sure that Katniss got back home.

"Do you think any of this would be different," he asked, quietly, as he turned his head to face Katniss again, so that their noses were almost touching, "if we weren't together?"

Katniss was quiet for a moment, thinking through the question in her head. "No…I really don't. It wouldn't have changed anything."

Peeta nodded, noiselessly. They were silent again. Peeta would've thought that being inches away from death, they would've had plenty to say. But right now, he couldn't think of anything at all. Words weren't enough to describe what he was feeling at that moment; they couldn't do justice to his situation. He had a feeling that Katniss knew what he was going to say anyway, if he decided to talk.

They both jumped when they heard a knock on the door. Not on his door; on Katniss' down the hall. The knocking was followed by the almost inaudible sound of Cinna's voice, gently calling for Katniss to wake up. In a few moments Portia would be here too. Suddenly, they both sat up, looking at each other wide eyed. If Peeta didn't manage to survive, this was probably the last time he was going to see Katniss.

Slowly, Katniss made a move to get up, not tearing her eyes away from his and Peeta started to panic. He grabbed her wrist tightly between his fingers to hold her back. She couldn't leave. Not yet. Not when he suddenly had an ocean of words he could say.

"Peeta…" she warned. Her voice was suddenly thick again. "I have to go…"

Even as she said the words, Peeta knew she had no attention to abide by them. She had perched herself back on the bed and didn't show the barest sign of resistance to his constricted grip. Panic was thumping through his veins. They didn't have time. There was so much he wanted to tell her. There was so much he wanted her to know. His tongue felt like sandpaper; his voice box was jammed. He released his grip and brought both his hands to her cheeks, cupping her face.

He looked straight into her eyes; the blue eyes that he had looked at so many times that they were burned into his memory. But as he stared at them, he wanted to memorize them anew altogether. He wanted to see them go darker when she was furious and he wanted to watch them spark up when she laughed. His let his eyes flicker to every detail of her face, imprinting every part of it to his memory. He didn't know if he'd get the chance to look at her again and he wanted her face to be the last thing he remembered. He felt a tear drop down to his hand and found that her eyes had welled up once again. Gently, he wiped the tear away with his thumb.

"Katniss…" he started to say, the words suddenly rushing out of his mouth. "When the gong sounds, I want you to run, like Haymitch said. Run as far away as you can. Don't wait for me, okay?"

Katniss started to protest but he spoke right through her words, his sense of urgency increasing with every second. "If I can't catch up straight away- and I _swear_ I will- just run as fast as you can and as far away as you can, alright? Just try to find water and I'll find you." He told her. He wiped away another tear that rolled slowly down her cheek and started rubbing his thumb up and down her jaw in a repeated motion. "We _will_ stay together." He stated, forcefully, adding every ounce of conviction he had into his voice. He didn't avert his gaze from her glistening azure eyes. "We will stay together and if we don't, I swear, I _will_ find you."

Katniss nodded mutely through her tears. She was shaking again and seeing her like this was physically hurting him, like repentant blows to his heart. There was another knock on Katniss' door and Cinna was saying something again. Time was trickling out of their hands, too fast, too soon. He was still in a state of panic, thinking about what words he could possibly say that could even remotely reflect his feelings.

"And I want you to know," Peeta continued, his voice cracking at the end of the sentence. "I-"

He could see from her expression that Katniss knew what he was going to say. Even if she couldn't read him like a book, it was plastered all over his face. He saw her face change from one of misery to one of fierce fortitude. She grabbed him from both shoulders and fixed him under her still-teary gaze.

"Don't say it." she said, fiercely, cutting him off mid-sentence. She was shaking her head, rapidly. "No, no, no. Don't you dare say anything you wouldn't say if we weren't going into the Games."

"Katniss-" he started to object but she cut him off by pressing her lips forcefully onto his, a desperate murmur of _not yet_ humming against his mouth. She threw her arms around his neck and held him together closely, like he would vanish the second she let go. Peeta's protest faded into his throat as he concentrated only on kissing her back, holding her face delicately in his hands. The only thing he could think of was how this could be the last time he got a chance to kiss her so he poured his heart out into that one kiss, conveying emotions he would never be able to transform into words. He could taste the salt of their tears mingling together and he could feel Katniss' breath hitching in her throat from suppressed sobs. When they broke apart, Katniss was openly crying.

She looked at him one last time, ran her shaking fingers along his cheek and brushed his hair out of his eyes. She pressed a wet kiss onto his forehead and whispered shakily, "I'll see you in a while."

He sat, unmoving and unfeeling, on his bed as he watched her disappear out of the door.

* * *

Peeta swallowed another piece of toast with help from a sip of water. He felt nauseous and sick to the stomach but he forced the food down, not knowing how long it will be to his next meal. Portia, dressed in soft sad shades of umber and charcoal grey, sat on the table opposite him, observing him closely and urging him to eat more under moment's intervals, her own plate remaining entirely untouched. When he finally pushed his half eaten plate away, Portia didn't object. They both knew that this was as far as he was going to get without throwing up.

"Come on." Portia stood up. "We need to get you dressed."

Portia leaded him to the other side of the Launch Room and opened the package that contained his clothes, identical to every other tribute's. As he put on his simple black shirt, he noticed that the light pink scar on his forearm- where a tracker had been inserted- was already beginning to fade. The rest of the outfit consisted of simple tawny pants, strong leather boots similar to his own hunting boots at home, a sturdy brown belt that Portia strapped around his middle and a thin, hooded black jacket.

Portia took the material of his jacket between her fingers and examined it, rubbing the slick fabric between the pads of her fingertips critically. "The material is thin so expect some sunny days," she informed him, "but it is designed to reflect body heat- so that means cool nights."

Peeta nodded mutely. Portia adjusted his belt and helped him lace up his boots. She dusted her hands and said, her voice carefully neutral, "Now we just have to wait for the call."

Peeta sat stiffly on the couch and Portia deposited herself besides him. They sat together quietly, Portia gazing at her interlaced hands hollowly as Peeta gnawed anxiously on the inside of his cheek. His nervousness seeped into terror as he realized that he could be dead in an hour flat. The apprehension that he had been feeling since he set foot on the tribute train, had been gradually increasing with each passing day and now within a matter of moments, it had multiplied tenfold. He didn't know how much more he could take before suffering from a full-blown panic attack. He started rubbing his hands together anxiously. Portia handed him a glass of water and he started taking little sips.

"You okay?" She asked, giving his elbow a comforting squeeze. He nodded noiselessly before reaching forward and taking her hand. She clasped his hand in both of hers and gave it a comforting squeeze. Her question had been a formality of course; they both knew he was pretty far from okay.

It was only a few moments later that a woman's mechanical voice broke into the dead silence of the room, announcing the time for the launch. Numbly, Peeta stood up with jittery legs and a racing heart. Portia led him towards the circular metal plate that would take him directly into the arena, still holding his hand, his clutching hers in a death-like grip. Suddenly, he felt like he had to say something to her too. It had only been a week and somehow she had managed to make a place in his iron-clad heart. Peeta thought that maybe it was because of the absence of a mother-figure in his life; when he met someone who even remotely filled the spot, his heart had allowed it unconsciously, willingly and easily.

Peeta wished he had gotten to know her better. He knew that now he would never get the chance to see her again and the thought was more painful than he could've imagined. She leaned over and kissed his cheek one last time, like a mother would do before dropping her kid off for school. Slowly, she extracted her hand from his tight grip.

"I believe in you." she told him in a strong and even tone. She placed both of her hands on his shoulders, her large hazel eyes serious and devoid of their usual good humor. "Think smart. Think brave. And do what you believe you have to do."

He nodded, silently. A siren rung out through the air and before the glass barrier could encase him in the narrow tube, he reached forwards and hugged her tightly, one last time. He whispered a small thank you in her ear and she nodded her head in understanding. He didn't mean it for the clothes. He meant it for everything else.

The plate started to rise and he kept his eyes on Portia as long as he could before he couldn't see her anymore. Just as her face disappeared from his view, he could've sworn he saw a tear drop down her cheek.

Darkness surrounded him for maybe twenty seconds before the metal plate was pushing him up and out into the open air. The sudden startling sunlight blinded his eyes and his nostrils filled up with the hopeful smell of pine trees and he could hear the barest roar of flowing water. _Forest. Water._ When he finally regained his vision, he heard Claudius Templesmith's voice boom across the arena.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, let the seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!"

He didn't have time to panic, only to observe and analyze and think. The sixty seconds started to trickle by; the amount of time they had before the gong sounded and it officially begun. The first thing that his eyes did was scan the circle of the tributes, scouting for Katniss. He spotted her on the opposite side of the circle, barely visible from behind the giant golden Cornucopia blocking his vision, standing between the girl from Seven and the boy from Five. _No Careers nearby. Good_. His eyes start to skid around. This was where he forgot everything else. He mind switched to survival mode. Analyze and utilize. The circle of tributes was situated on a large expanse of grassy dirt. On Peeta's left was a glittering lake that his eyes followed to the horizon. His mind connected it to the barely audible rush of flowing water that had previously reached his ears. He couldn't see anything further up to his north, which indicated a slope or maybe a cliff. _River. Stream. The lake must be fed by some water source._ To his right, he spotted a sparse forest consisting mainly of pines and thin woody trees that he couldn't identify. _Cover. Hunting grounds. Shelter. _He turned around on his plate and found that the land to his south comprised solely of a field that was blanketed with waist-high wheat crop. _Possible food source. No, too risky, too unfamiliar._ He turned back again and faced the Cornucopia. Just like the previous Games', the mouth of the Cornucopia was piled high with supplies which consisted of food, medicine, weapons and backpacks full of utilities. More supplies were strewn across the ground surrounding it, more reachable if he wanted to escape the bloodbath.

His eyes immediately zeroed up to the woods. This was where Haymitch would want him to go. And this was where Katniss would surely be heading. Thirty seven seconds left. His eyes scrounged the perimeter again. He started to mentally sort through the weapons and supplies scattered across the Cornucopia. If he grabbed the green backpack and that spear, he could make it to the woods in forty seconds flat. But if he ran a little sideways-

_Wait._

His train of thought vaporized instantly when his eyes caught sight of the glittering object atop a little mound of supplies. A bow. It sat a little further up, almost at the mouth of the Cornucopia besides a full sheath of arrows, already strung, shimmering almost mockingly in the sunlight.

_That's mine. _He thought, instantly._ That's meant for_ me.

But he stopped completely when he remembered the words he said to Katniss this morning. _We're staying together_. She would be expecting him to make a run for the woods. And she would be planning on doing the same. If he ran for the bow, he didn't know whether he would be able to get to the woods in time to find her. Or whether he would be able to get to the woods at all. Even if he was at his quickest, he knew that the Careers would only be a few feet away, and by the time he had grabbed the bow they would be at him with their swords and spears and clubs. But he also knew that if he planned on getting her out alive, he desperately needed that bow. It was the only way he could protect her and himself from the Careers- who after last night's spectacle, would be right on their tails.

He caught Katniss' eye. She was far enough so that he couldn't see her face clearly but he could immediately spot the slight shake of the head she gave him. He instantly knew what it meant. _Don't. It's not worth it._

Fifteen seconds.

His mind was riddled with confusion. Should he follow her advice and make a run for the woods, or should he take a chance at the bow? He was confident enough in his speed, but could he get the bow and make it to the woods before the Careers got to him? It was a risk. One he wasn't sure he was willing to take. He knew he had promised her that they would stay together but he had also promised that he would get her out of the arena alive. Right now, he knew which promise meant more to him. If she died, it wouldn't matter if they were together or not.

Suddenly, a plan started forming in his head, formulating from the options laid before him. He didn't need to be _near_ her to protect her from the Careers. He just needed to make sure that the Careers were _far enough away_.

He adjusted his stance, shoulders hunched, feet apart, ready to sprint.

Eight.

He breathed in deeply, ignoring the blood pounding deafeningly through his system.

Five.

He traced the circle of Tributes with his eyes.

Three.

He looked at Katniss, trying to take her in one last time.

One.

The gong sounded and he sprinted. No matter how much he could have mentally prepared himself for this moment, he knew he could never have been ready. His strides were long, his feet were swift, his arms lifting and falling in a practiced motion. He didn't look around, his vision narrowed and focusing solely on the glittering bow, the wind roaring in his ears. He closed himself off to the sounds that suddenly filled the air; the sharp stomping of feet on the muddy ground, the shrill cries that followed an attack, the shouts of fear that managed to send a shudder down his spine. The girl from Seven interrupted his stride and he knocked her out of the way without even looking at her face. As he ran onwards, he heard her let out an earthshattering scream and Peeta knew without knowing that she was dead.

_Which means-_

He turned around and ducked when he saw the knife soaring in his direction, but he wasn't fast enough. The knife caught his arm before bouncing to the ground, tearing through the thin jacket. Peeta stumbled as the pain and a trickle of warm liquid started to flow down his arm.

_Don't stop, you can't stop._

He ignored the little spikes prickling through his limb and started to run again, pretending that the sudden jitters running through his legs was just the adrenaline pumping through his veins. The bow was close. So close. Just a few more steps. He started to climb the small mound, his arm already outstretched.

Just as his fingers were about to clasp around the shiny metal, a hand grabbed his ankle and pulled, hard. He let out a small _oomph_ of surprise as he face-planted hard into the mud and ground connected with his body with a _thud_. Pain rammed through his torso and his head spun momentarily. Twisting sharply, he came face to face with the male from District Four who stood at his feet, a satisfied and exhilarated grin stretched across his lips.

The only thing Peeta could remember thinking was how the guy hadn't even garnered enough attention for Peeta to remember his name. But he wasn't dying yet. Not at the hands of this guy. District Four raised the long-bladed knife, and Peeta- still lying on the ground- aimed a swift kick at his ankles.

The blonde haired boy slammed to the ground, his knife clattering to his side. He recovered quickly, pinning Peeta sharply before he could rise. Peeta struggled under the weight of the heavy boy, twisting and turning to escape his grip. District Four raised a closed fist, and before Peeta could dodge, aimed a punch at Peeta's jaw. For a split second Peeta's vision blanched, his head was thrown back and he could feel the pain splitting through his skull like an axe.

Head swirling, Peeta gritted his teeth. Every second he wasted there was one more second away from Katniss. District Four raised another closed fist and in a huge burst of strength, Peeta dug his elbows into the ground and pushed his torso upwards. The boy's aim missed and his balance was thrown off. Taking the opportunity, Peeta freed himself and dug an elbow in his foe's stomach, causing him to double over and fall back into the hard-packed dirt.

Peeta straightened up and began to run, ignoring the bone-deep ache coursing through the left side of his face and the heady sting of the wound on his arm. He knew he had barely damaged the guy and he would be at his heels in a matter of seconds, but all he needed was to get the bow before District Four recovered. Peeta climbed the mound of supplies a second time, faster, single-mindedly.

Relief coursed through his system as his fingers wound around the gleaming metal, so different from the one at home but holding such a familiar feel. He felt a bout of confidence bubbling up in his gut. As long as he had the bow, he was in the game.

He slung the sheath over his back and wasted no time before notching a streamlined arrow against the arch of the bow. He checked his left arm where the knife had bit into his flesh. The pain was still tearing through his upper arm, but the bleeding had been reduced to a slow trickle that would stop anytime soon. He looked around the arena, from his position on the small mound of supplies. The bloodbath was going on in full motion. The Careers had already acquainted themselves with their menacing weapons and were hacking and slashing with incredible speed. He searched through the bodies lying clattered on the ground like ragdolls.

He almost cried with relief when he realized that he couldn't spot a blonde braid amongst them.

She had gotten away. Just like he had believed she would.

Peeta averted his eyes from the unconscious bodies. He could feel the bile building up in his throat the longer he looked and he swallowed audibly to force it down. Positioning his bow in front of his chest in a defensive, he jumped from the mound landing neatly on the ground, ready to make a run for it while he could.

He had barely even moved when he spotted District Four making his way towards him again, his blonde hair looking almost brown, a trickle of blood running down his brow and a ferocious look upon his face. He had reclaimed his knife and was grasping it tightly between his fingers.

Within a split second Peeta had raised his bow deftly and pointed it straight at the boy's chest on instinct, the tension of the string deliciously deadly beneath his fingers. The boy halted in his tracks and raised his knife threateningly in the air as if preparing for a clumsy throw. Peeta immediately knew he was at an advantage here. The boy had a knife, but it wasn't his weapon of choice.

"You move," Peeta started to say, "and I-"

"You'll _what,_ Loverboy?"

Cato, the brute from District Two, came up to stand beside District Four with an almost amused sneer, the sword in his hand glistening crimson, the blood of his victims dripping thickly from the blade. Peeta cursed his luck. He had cut it too close getting his bow. The Careers already had him cornered. This was either a prime opportunity to kill off some of the competition and give Katniss a fighting chance, or a death trap just waiting to spring.

Cato appraised his bow with amusement, twirling his sword in his grip casually, as if trying to intimidate his competition. Peeta hated to admit it but his trick was working; he looked entirely too comfortable holding that blade, balancing its weight with practiced ease.

"Or else I'll shoot," Peeta said, somehow managing to keep his voice steady and trying to put as much threat into his words as he could. Slight tremors ran through his spine and he could feel the terror making his fingers jitter. He clenched his teeth together forcefully; this wasn't a time to lose it. He couldn't afford to throw off his aim. Precision was vital.

Cato laughed jeeringly, as if he knew a joke that only he could understand. Mockingly, he spread his arms in the air. "You're gonna shoot?" He taunted. _"All_ of us?"

Peeta froze. Suddenly he was aware of the stocky figure of the girl from District Two, Clove, at his right, silently making her way towards his direction, her belt stocked abundantly with an array of knives, a dangerous glint in her dark almond-shaped eyes. He whipped his head to the opposite direction and could see Glimmer, the girl form District One, smirking at him with amusement. She winked at him and wiggled her fingers in his direction, one hand propped flirtatiously on her hip. When Peeta faced Cato and District Four again, they had been joined by Marvel, who had a silver javelin ready in his hand and two more in near vicinity.

Peeta tried to keep down the sudden eruption of panic in his mind even as he stared certain death in the eye. He pressed back into the mouth of the Cornucopia, trying to put some distance between himself and the pack bearing down on him. He didn't know where to point his bow. He didn't know where to look. His eyes flicked from one Career to the next.

Suddenly he thought of the deer he and Gale had cornered one glorious day, the expression in its eyes: terrified, knowing what was about to happen but unable to move. He just knew that his expression was exactly the same.

"Not so tough now, are you, Loverboy?" Marvel jeered. He stabbed his spear into the dirt and twisted it around making a small hole in the soil. In a few moments, Peeta knew, the soil could potentially be replaced by his heart and the shattered remains of his sternum.

"What was it you said last night, huh? _I'll kill all twenty-two of them myself!_" He quoted Peeta mockingly, accompanied by the laughter of the others, delighting in the situation.

For a moment there was complete silence everywhere. Peeta could practically feel the eyes of the whole Capitol glued to their television screens, eagerly watching the spectacle as they reached into a bucket of popcorns, unable to tear their gazes away from the 'entertainment'.

Then, Cato spoke as if completing the sentence for Marvel. His voice was low and disgusted but Peeta could almost feel the sound waves hitting his ears.

"But you're just a brat who's _way _out of his league."

The others immediately laughed in agreement, jeering.

"Go on, Marvel! Skewer him!"

"Stick him already. Or let _me_ do it."

"No, let Cato gut him! Let's see if his sweetheart's name is engraved on his little heart!"

Peeta was barely listening. Something about Cato's tone or his words threw him off. The proudness of it. The arrogance thickly lacing each separate syllable. Suddenly, his vision was blanketed by red. His hands started to shake from anger instead of fear. His breathing accelerated. He could feel his pulse throbbing angrily in his veins. The laughter echoing around him was like a catalyst to the fire. He wanted to show them. He wanted to show them all.

_Because I am_ not_ your prey._

He clenched his bow tighter, arrow already notched, and pulled back the taut string. He felt a bout of exhilaration in the simple action. The practiced way his arm extended backwards, the muscles in his back flexing and coiling with its tension. The soft tickle of the string as it connected barely with his jaw, curled fingers anchored at the seam of his mouth. The absolute _certainty_ with which he knew that he would get his target, every single time. He felt a burst of pure satisfaction of seeing the surprised faces as he released the arrow and took them off-guard. They hadn't expected him to act. Not when he was so heavily outnumbered.

It happened in less than five seconds flat. The arrow soared through the air. District Four fell to the ground. Peeta ducked just in time to avoid the sword sailing in his direction, quickly regained his balance and notched another arrow against his bow, aiming it directly at Cato's heart. Cato stopped short, his eyes widened in surprise. The rest of the Careers halted their movements, hesitating, uncertain. Peeta smiled inwardly. He knew how these things worked. Take down the alpha and the rest of the pack went down with him.

_Understand now? I am not your prey. I am a hunter, and you are in my sights._

Cato's face at the moment was one which Peeta was sure he would remember forever. Skin red with anger, eyes dilated in fright and looking at him with something akin to astonishment. Peeta knew that he didn't have much time before the others got over their surprise and decided to attack, so he spoke, making sure that his voice carried perfectly to each one of their ears.

"I want in," he demanded, piercingly. "I want to join the Careers."

* * *

**And BAM! :D Oh, Peeta you beautiful creature c': **

**So, guys I'd say that this chapter demands a review, maybe? c: **

**On the side news: HOUSE OF HADES IS OUT. So, I'm probably not gonna write anything until I've read that fabulous thing almost three times and then exams guys so the next update in going to be a little late :O **

**BUT, I need more ideas so be free to suggest what should happen next!**

**The song is Eyes Open by Taylor Swift and what a beautiful song it is. **

**Reviews are like the happiness of my life sooo... *hint hint***

**Anyways, love,**

**-EG xoxoxo**

**P.s I really like talking to you guys so if anyone just wants to have a chat about anything like books and stuff, you should PM me :)**


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